Shadow Lord's Bane
by Split Infinitive
Summary: Link, succumbing to the corruption of power and fame, has become a somewhat eccentric dictator in his own right...or so Zelda believes. Is hatred inevitable between the pair...or does their bond run deeper than that?
1. Book I Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Nintendo own the Legend of Zelda

**Shadow Lord's Bane**

Book I

Chapter 1

Spinning dust motes swam lazily through the air, catching the sharp glint of the sun as it poured light in through the large window. The air felt ragged, stifling, as the heat of the summer's day weighed down on his eyelids, making him feel drowsy. Link, the Shadow Lord of Castleton, lounged in his Throne, idly flicking at his tunic as he tried to drown out the monotonous droning vibrating through his head.

Slowly he forced open his eyes, stifling a yawn at the last moment, and tried to listen to his advisor, standing nearby with a roll of parchment stretched in his hands.

"And in addition to disputing your recent reversal of the Anti-Slavery Act," the man was saying, his eyes darting left and right as he read. "She wishes to discuss the execution of one Nobleman Mafrick." The advisor swallowed, then paused to wipe his brow. "She believes the trial and punishment were both unjust."

Shifting in his seat, Link's dry lips parted as he mumbled his pronouncement.

The advisor blinked, then leaned forward. "I beg your pardon, Milord?"

Link rolled his head around to face him. "I said," he explained, his voice slurred. "I hate that woman."

"Very good, sir," the advisor said.

The Shadow Lord frowned at the man, then turned to face his guards, standing at one side of the Throne Chamber. "Don't you hate that woman?"

The guards stepped forward as one, then chanted in time: "Yes, Milord! We hate that woman, sir!"

Link's eyes narrowed as he fixed them with a stare. He opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it.

"Sir," the advisor said with a cough. "She is waiting, sir."

Closing his eyes, Link felt his temple throb. He steeled himself, letting out a breath. She wouldn't win this time. "Very well," he said, gesturing with his hand. "Bring in Princess Zelda."

The advisor spun on his heels, his boots squeaking on the polished floor, and clapped once, twice. "Very good, sir."

"No, it isn't," Link grumbled from under his breath. No one paid any attention, though, as the silver plated doors to the Chamber swung open, bringing up dust. Striding through the resultant cloud, and surrounded by her entourage, the Princess of Hyrule made her entrance, her emerald eyes gleaming with fury.

She game to a sudden stop, her skirts still swishing, then reached into her belt, and pulled free a knife. Before anyone could react, she drew back her arm and threw.

The metal shimmered as it tore through the air, the Shadow Lord's guards jumping, then lunging forward...they were all too slow. Suddenly coming to life, Link's arm swung, swooping fluidly, and caught the blade with his hand. He glanced down, saw the trickle of blood run down his palm.

Scowling, Zelda reached for her belt again. She froze as the Shadow Lord's slow, measured voice rang out, bringing the temperature down just a notch. "_Don't...do that...again."_

The Princess seemed to sag for just an instant, but she quickly regained her composure as she stepped forward. "How dare you!" she spat. "How dare you repeal the Anti-Slavery Law in Castleton? Didn't my father tell you that all such decisions had to be approved by him first?"

Link reached under his hat and scratched his head. "He may have done, yes," he mumbled.

Zelda wasn't finished. "And poor Mafrick! You executed him! He's dead!"

"That tends to happen after an execution. Messy business, really. Wish there were another-"

"Shut up!" Zelda was breathing hard now, her eyes wide, her cheeks tinted rose. "The trial was a farce. My father should have had the final decision. Mafrick shouldn't even have been arrested in the first place. Not without my father knowing."

"Awfully sorry," Link said, sneering. "Next time I have a serial rapist in town, I'll be sure to run it by 'father' before sending in the troops." His voice dropped an octave. "Wouldn't want little Princess to get all upset now, would we?"

Zelda caught it, and glared at him accordingly. "Are you mocking me?"

"Yes, I am." The Shadow Lord reached into a bowl sitting on a table beside his Throne. Frowning as he searched, he pulled free an apple and took a bite, the tangy juice filling his mouth. "Quite happy that you're rather quick on the uptake today. I thought you might have wanted to run back to _father_ and ask him first." Link's voice took on a higher pitch. "' _Daddy, do you think Link was making fun of me?"_ His voice then became deep. "'_Why, yes, dearest. Why don't you go nag him some more? He'll surely learn his lesson then._" He chewed slowly, his eyes locked with Zelda's, then reached for the bowl. "Grapes?"

The Princess was positively fuming now. The muscles in her face clenched, then, abruptly, she turned to face the window. "You were once the Hero of Time, you know," she said softly. "I admired you. Supported you as my...as the King made you Governor of Castleton." She let her hands come to rest on the pane. "But I see you are no better a man than Ganondorf Dragmire."

Link wagged his fingers in mock-fear, then stopped instantly as Zelda turned back to face him.

"What happened to you?" she pleaded. "What happened to the Hero of Time?"

The Shadow Lord felt his heart catch, then pushed the feeling away instantly, irritated. She was playing games with him again. He hated that. "You were a lot more fun when I was running around finding Spiritual Stones for you."

"Why won't you talk to me, Link?" People flinched, so strange was it to hear the Shadow Lord's true name. "Why've you closed yourself off? What's wrong? I can help-"

"I don't need," the Shadow Lord seethed, "anyone's help. Everything I have, I have earned. I do what's best for everyone, whether you can see it or not. I make sure that people will never lose the things that they'd grown so attached to, that they'd never have them stripped of them forcefully."

At once, Link knew he'd made a mistake. He'd given away too much. Would she notice? Would she be able to tell?

Zelda's voice turned cold. "I see your problem now," she said, her eyes shining as she studied his face. "I see where you went wrong."

The Shadow Lord fidgeted in his Throne. "Do tell."

The Princess walked forward slowly, her boots tapping against the floor. "Everyone's so enamoured with you that they've forgotten to tell you when you make a mistake. They think you can do no wrong -I admit, I was like that once, too. But no-one's really told you what you've truly become, have they?"

Link shifted some more in his seat. He didn't like the way the Princess was looking at him; and liked the heat, now making his tunic stick to his skin, even less.

Zelda's mouth curled with scorn. "Look at you," she spat. "Corrupted by power, impotent, bloated."

The Shadow Lord glanced down at his stomach and, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, quickly looked back up. Zelda's face wore an expression of total disgust.

"'Shadow Lord', you call yourself?" she continued, her eyes burning. "Child. That's all you are. I sent you back in time to reclaim your childhood, but I never imagined that you'd hold onto it for so long." Her eyes scanned him, up and down. "Sitting there playing with your sword, still wearing your silly green hat."

Link was stung. He almost reeled from the words, his mouth agape. He looked at the Princess, then at his advisor, noticing that the man was keenly studying the floor. There was relief, thankfully, that she hadn't caught the hint in his words, but _this_ was too much. She was right. No one _had _mentioned this before. He needed answers. "But," the Shadow Lord gasped. "What's wrong with my hat?"

Zelda threw up her arms, snarling in exasperation. "You see?!" she cried. "You see?! You haven't an ounce of wisdom, nor ability to run a city a big as Castleton. Do you know how many people you've condemned by repealing the Anti-Slavery law? How many lives have suffered? Of course, you don't care about inflicting pain, especially with the way you treated Mafrick."

Glancing at his guards surreptitiously as Zelda went on, Link whispered from the corner of his mouth. "Is there anything wrong with my hat?"

"No, Milord!" the guards whispered back. "We love your hat, sir!"

"I wouldn't be surprised," Zelda was saying, "if you didn't own slaves yourself." She stared at him, and this time there were tears in her eyes. "And to think," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I once considered you my friend."

Link had had enough of this. He drew himself up to his full height, the people around him, Zelda included, dropping back. He was still the Hero of Time, after all. Slowly, he descended down to the floor, his face a blank mask.

Forcing the requisite amount of cold menace into his voice, he said, "Princess Harkinian. You no doubt consider yourself the bastion of all things moral and wholesome in the Kingdom, but let me assure you that you are nothing but an idealistic meddler." He was now face to face with Zelda; the Princess refusing to make eye contact with him. "Had you bothered to do your research, you would know that I haven't repealed the Anti-Slavery Act, I have _amended_ it." A pause, enough to let Zelda's mistake sink in. "You see, as Hero of Time, I find myself very much a man of the people. Unlike you, living in your wonderfully opulent castle, I know how things work in the real world.

"There are over a million slaves in the Kingdom, a fraction of whom live under my jurisdiction. Had I implemented the Act, it would have been chaos. Where would all these freedman live? What would they eat? Where would they work? I'm sure you considered all that, right?" The scarlet flush to Zelda's cheeks told him that she hadn't. He resisted the urge to revel in his triumph, keeping his feelings private to savour for later. "You see, I have now made it punishable by law for any slaveowner to mistreat their workers. All slaves now have to housed, fed, and clothed at the owner's expense. If they fail to do this, they answer to me. Now any slave that wishes to be released is free to do so, on condition that he learns for himself a craft that he can then use to earn his own keep." He leaned forward, catching the heady scent of her perfume. "Far more practical, wouldn't you say, than the 'Release all slaves' order that your father imposed?"

Zelda's snapped her head around to face him. A muscle in her cheek twitched, her face now blurred with fury. "Let me assure _you_ of something, 'Shadow Lord'," she breathed, her words barely above the level of a whisper. "I despise the way you run Castleton. I despise you." Her voice trembled at those last words. "And I vow that I will take this city back. _I_ will be the next Governor. And, no, I'm not going to ask father to depose you...I'll do it myself. By fair means or foul."

They stared at each other, the air between them thick, the heat adding to the heavy atmosphere. "You have," Link said, "really beautiful eyes, do you know that?"

Snarling, Zelda spun on her heels, almost slipping, but catching herself instantly. "You've been warned," she said, her tone venomous. She glanced at her entourage. "We are leaving."

Link motioned at his advisor. "See them out," he ordered, then added hastily in a low voice: "Try and make sure the drawbridge lifts before she gets across. She could do with a swim."

The advisor bowed. "Very good, sir."

"I know," Link said, grinning. "I thought of it myself."

The Shadow Lord thought the advisor's eyes were spinning rather strangely, but ignored it as the man brushed past him.

Sinking into his Throne, Link pursed his lips and knitted his fingers as he pondered. It had been a long time since he'd pitted his wits against a tenacious nemesis. A hunger grew inside of him, chafing his soul. He needed this. The realisation hit him like ice water on a cold morning. Those past few moments talking Zelda down...he hadn't felt alive like that in years.

He was the Hero of Time. He needed an enemy to face, to defeat. A small smile stretched across the Shadow Lord's face. Yes...this would be interesting. He hoped this battle would last a long time. It had all the ingredients - former friend turned enemy, bitter wounds not yet healed. And by defeating her, he would make sure that the only one that had the power to take from him what he'd always wanted would be himself - not some arbitrary decision to send him back in time just when he'd found his heart's desire. Yes, he mused, as the old joy crept into his heart, yes...Zelda would make a worthy foe indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A haze of blurred crimson light smudged Link's vision as he strode through the corridors of CastleMount, the tap of his boots ringing in the air. Candles, fat and dripping wax, sat in small, separated alcoves in the grimy walls either side. At his heels, his advisor trotted swiftly behind him.

The Shadow Lord's heart thumped with excitement, in time with each of his steps. It had been quite a while since he'd ever felt so energetic, and his mind was already awhirl with schemes and strategy. His mouth almost watered. Come to think of it, he mused, he _was _rather thirsty.

Reaching for a small bottle from his belt, he pulled free the cracked wooden stopper, then glanced briefly at the contents – thick, red liquid imprisoned by glittering emerald glass – and brought it to his lips. Rolling his eyes back as the creamy nectar flooded his body, Link let out a satisfied sigh and smacked his lips.

"There's the rub," he slurred, wiping his mouth with sleeve. He caught his advisor's disgusted expression and turned to face him. "Tingle," he said, finally recalling the man's name - it was hard for the Shadow Lord to keep track of his minions. The name was familiar, but Link had no time to chase the thought. "You don't know what you're missing, mate." Link was met with another look of pure repugnance, no doubt due to the vulgarity of the Governor's speech.

"This potion," Link continued, lifting the bottle up by its neck and giving it a small shake, "helped me many a time in my battle against Ganondorf. If not for this and its wonderful healing properties, I'd have been left dead long before I got to the Gerudo's little hideout."

"Hardly a hideout, sir," Tingle said as the two of them came to an intersection, stopping as they were faced with a myriad passageways branching from the centre. "It was this very castle, if I do recall correctly."

"You're right," Link said happily, a grin on his face. "This very castle itself. Zelda used to live here, then Ganondorf. 'Course the King decided he wanted a bigger place…near Lake Hylia. So he gave me this."

"I'm aware of CastleMount's history, Milord." He gave a small cough. "However, with regards to the potion, many scholars believe that he should not be drunk except in the most direst of circumstances."

"Right, right," Link said, distracted. It was true that he'd grown a little dependent on red potion, but he was hardly a drunkard, was he? He had no time to ponder on this, though, as another scheme baked in his mind. "Say, Tingle," he continued, "I think it's going to get rather interesting right here in Castleton. Intrigue. Murder. That sort of business. Exhilarating, really." He licked his lips. "I'm thinking I might need a little help. Could you send a message over to Darunia and the Gorons? Tell him I might be passing through for a little chat."

Tingle's aged face visibly stiffened. "Milord…" he said slowly, as though explaining something simple to a particularly difficult child, "You are forbidden to enter Death Mountain. By orders of Darunia himself."

"Am I?" Link said cheerily. Finally deciding which path to take, the Shadow Lord bounded down the corridor of his choice. "I forget," he continued and blinked, frowning. "Is there a problem between him and I?"

When Tingle spoke, his voice was strained with patience. "I believe the Goron Overlord did not take kindly to your suggestion that Death Mountain is an eyesore that should be removed with their very own bomb plants."

Understanding dawned on the Shadow Lord's face. "Oh yes," he said. "Bit sensitive, isn't he?"

"Slightly, sir, yes."

Link looked over his shoulder. "You know why I drink the potion, Tingle? Because it's better to be safe than sorry. Hence the reason," he said, coming to a sudden stop in front of a door, "why I'm going to be prepared for our little trip today."

The Shadow Lord inserted a key, heard the metal click, then pushed the door open. The duo were met with a wave of noise, a constant throbbing hum that grew to an angry buzz as Link entered. Stacked upon shelves on either side of the cramped room were row upon row of small glass jars, each burning with bright incandescent light, a frantic flutter of movement from within signifying the beating of tiny wings.

"It would appear," Tingle said dryly, "that the Princess' claim that you may keep slaves was not too exaggerated."

"Nonsense," Link said with a smile. "They love working for me."

He picked up the nearest Fairy Bottle and gave it a quick shake. An angry voiced squeaked out from within. "Link! Let me out of here! I'm not some cheap mistress that you can use at your own convenience, you worthless piece of –"

"See?" The Shadow Lord's broad grin was almost as bright as the lights in the jars. "They're loving it!"

"Very good, sir," Tingle said, giving a short nod. "Shall I prepare your carriage?"

"Absolutely," Link replied, stuffing the Fairy Bottle into his belt. A tiny muffled voice screamed, "Not there! Anywhere but there!" There was a short pause, before it added despondently, "By all that is Holy…the _smell._"

"Destination?" Tingle asked, desperately trying to ignore what was going on in front of him.

"A little tour of Castleton, I think," Link said, his eyes sparkling. "Before we pay the blacksmith a short visit. You know the one…used to be a rancher…"

"Talon."

"That's it. I have a little proposition in mind."

2

The blare of horns was met with a roar of approval from the assembled crowd – everyone was pleased to see the Hero of Time, in all his pomp and splendour, step out amongst the commonality once in a while. Women wept, children grinned and men bowed their heads as the Shadow Lord's procession slowly moved through the cobbled streets.

Link sat in his carriage, rocking gently from side to side, his fingers interlocked, save for the times he gave a little wave through one of the small windows.

As the tour went on, Link reflected on the fact that Castleton was no longer the small but bustling little town that it had been when he'd first came here as a child. It had expanded greatly in short number of years, consisting mainly of the Hub, the central trading area where all the shops were situated. Moving towards Hyrule Field, one would still find the Temple of Time, its grey features cracked, but still foreboding, towards the south-west of the Hub, and now would find Clock Tower towards the North, a little reminder of Link's sojourn in the land of Termina. Around Clock Tower, a number of domestic dwellings had arisen, occupied mostly by the wealthy. Further north were the shanty-towns, the places where the less fortunate lived, always ready to rebel, though the Shadow Lord himself and always managed to outsmart them without a single drop of blood spilt.

East from the Hub was where a person could find the Amphitheatre, a grand structure, lined with gold and covered with silk, where the denizens of Castleton could spend a pleasant evening being entertained as the glare of the summer's sun waned, bringing cool air, tinted mint from the mint farms situated just outside the city's gates, back into the streets. Beyond that were the Slave Camps and their dwellings.

Link, taking a surreptitious sip of red potion while Tingle was distracted, sat back in his leather-coated chair and let the sounds of his city wash over him. Fragments of speech came to him, the usual murmur of shouts and heated voices of a trader town. He picked up extra snippets, though; the lunatic preachings of the 'Hyrule for Hylians Only' rabble and the black marketers promising to sell an actual shard of the Triforce or, more bizarrely, Link's actual hat.

The Shadow Lord's hand automatically went to the said item, perched atop his head. "How's my hat?" he asked, breaking Tingle out of reverie.

Tingle gave him a pained look. "Fine, Milord."

Link shook his fist, whispering, "Silly green hat, indeed…" His eyes snapped open. "Where is Zelda anyway?"

"Our spies report that she hasn't yet left the city," Tingle replied.

The Shadow Lord's eyes thinned. "That's interesting."

With a jolt, the carriage came to a sudden halt, ending all conversations.

3

Ringed by his guards, the Shadow Lord stood in front of the blacksmiths, Clock Tower looming behind them. A crowd had formed (naturally, thought Link), smiling, entreating, weeping.

Link looked up, watching the torrents of waste water, set free from the drains that he had ordered to be built, dripping rhythmically to the ground. A dirty grey horseshoe creaked above the door as the breeze gently pushed against it.

"May I remind you, sir," Tingle said softly, "that you're not exactly welcome in Talon's shop."

"Don't worry," Link said, his hand automatically dropping to the Fairy Bottle at his waist, "everything will work out fine, you'll see." He glanced at his guards. "Wait here. Tingle, with me."

The warmth hit them like a wave, washing over their bodies and bringing blood to their skin. All around them came the sound of frenetic activity, the lighthearted insults between the workers mixing with the steady ringing of metal clanking against metal. Glowing orange rods, liquid metal that was being hammered hypnotically into shape, peeked out from here and there, their freshly burnt stench almost suffocating.

A plump man appeared at the far end, took one look at Link, then wiped the grime off his fingers with a ragged cloth. Some of the workers looked up, as though sensing some sort of storm brewing. The bigger man, throwing the cloth aside, strode forward.

"Ah!" the Shadow Lord said finally, his familiar grin spreading across his face. He walked across the threshold, all eyes upon him, to greet the newcomer. "Talon! So nice to see you-"

Talon snapped his fingers and, almost instantaneously, the duo were surrounded by a gaggle of men, swords drawn and muscles trembling. Tingle tensed, but Link kept his composure. The work continued in the background, metal sizzling and steam shooting into the air, hissing.

The Shadow Lord's eyes burned into Talon's face, his voice dropping to the harsh tone he'd used on Zelda the previous day. "This is a most unadvisable course of action," he said, his voice soft, but heavy with implication. "The King is hardly going to appreciate you killing the Governor of Castleton now, is he?"

A muscle in Talon's cheek twitched. The air was thick with anticipation. Hands gripped hilts tightly, the silence almost stifling. "What the _bloody_ hell are you _bloody_ doing here?" the plump man shrieked.

"I was just -"

"_Bloody_ stay _bloody_ silent."

"But you said-"

"I should _bloody _well kill you were you _bloody _well stand." Talon motioned to his men. "Boys -"

"If you'd bloody well keep your trap shut for one bloody moment," Link shouted, bringing all activity on the room to a deathly halt. "I'd bloody well tell you what I'm bloody well doing here!" He looked around, then added sheepishly, "Pardon my Hylian."

Silence reigned for a heartbeat. Talon stepped forward, his eyes looking them both over carefully. "Bloo-" He paused, closed his eyes, and cleared his throat. "Go on," he said, his voice soft. "But this better be good."

As usual, Link's grin grew wider. "Excellent," he said, licking his lips. "Right, I got an offer for you, mate."

"Oh?" Talon said, raising one eyebrow.

"I'm going to give you something that's going to put right everything that I've done to you in the past." He paused. "All the lies, all the deceit, all the times I sold you not-quite-up-to-scratch merchandise..."

"Merchandise that almost put me out of business and put my life in danger from irate clients."

Link cocked his head to one side. "Aye, that too. No need to rub it in."

"Go ahead," Talon said, rolling his tongue around the inside of his cheek. "I'm interested."

The Shadow Lord stepped forward, glanced left and right, then bowed slightly. "I've got something you want."

Talon cocked an eyebrow.

Link leaned in slowly. "Here it is."

The muscles in Talon's cheek stiffened as he watched silently. The other men tightened their grips on their hilts, their eyes cautious.

The Shadow Lord opened his mouth. "I" A heartbeat. "Am." A blade trembled. "Bloody." A shuffle of feet. "Well." Another heartbeat. "_Sorry_." Something metallic dropped to the ground somewhere behind them. "For." Someone sniffed. "Bloody." A boot scuffed the ground. "Everything."

Link stepped back, a satisfied grin plastered on his face, and spread his arms out open. "There!" he said. "How's that?"

There was a moment's silence. Talon blinked. "That's...it?"

Link nodded.

"You're...offering...me...an...apology?"

Link nodded more vigorously.

Talon's eyes grew wide. His lip trembled as his cheeks flushed red. All eyes turned to him, waiting expectantly. Then he burst out laughing, doubling over with tears streaking down his cheeks.

"What? What?" the Shadow Lord mumbled, genuine hurt lacing his voice.

Talon gasped, desperately trying to regain his breath. He waved at his men, but they hesitated, confused expressions etched on their faces. "Go!" he barked. "Just bloody go!"

Link folded his arms as Tingle stepped to his side. "Can we discuss this without resorting to cursing?" the Shadow Lord said. "Or violence, if that's peachy with you?"

"You know," Talon said, drawing himself up to his full height. "Since my daughter married the King, I think I'm pretty much exempt from any consequences should I kill you. And I feel I have every right to do so. You're nothing special here, Link. The King would side with me if I reveal to him every trick you pulled on me."

"And it's precisely the King that we want to impress," Link said, smiling.

Talon cracked a knuckle. "What do you mean?"

"I think the King may be paying us a visit."

"Really?"

The Shadow Lord nodded. "If his daughter has anything to do with it, yes."

"So?"

"So…you're not only the best blacksmith in Town, but you're the best at organising stuff like the Clock Tower festival, right?"

Talon sniffed, unimpressed. "I built the Clock Tower. The Amphitheatre, too."

"That you did," Link agreed. "I need you to build something else. A tournament ground. Then, I need you to think of a good tournament - a little battle of wills, don't you know - that'll really express my skills. To impress the King, like."

A smirk grew on the plump man's face. "I take it that you're expecting a challenge to your authority? Why should I care whether you're removed from power or not?"

"Because, sunshine," Link said, his face tight, "the reason you're so very prosperous is because Castleton has grown from a grimy little trader town into a veritable metropolis. And it's done that..."

"...thanks to you."

Link nodded, satisfied. "Right. Admit it...if you just overlook some minor discretions, I'm good for business, mate."

"Minor discretions that almost cost people their lives." Talon's voice took on an acidic edge. "_Not _good for business. Especially since my reputation was almost destroyed. Imagine selling someone metal that _bites_ people."

The Shadow Lord threw up his arms. "Won't happen again. Honest." He offered his hand. "And if it was as bad as you say, you wouldn't stay here. You _like _it here."

The blacksmith stared at the Shadow Lord's outstretched hand. "You have it right there. And all you're offering me is an apology?"

Link shrugged. "What can I say? You're the very first," he said. "Makes it special, see. Aren't you honoured?" His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, his eyes darting left and right. "You're my first time. There was no one else. I'll never forget it."

Snorting with disgust, Talon slapped Link's hand away. "I want more than an apology, 'mate'."

The Shadow Lord considered this for a moment, pulling on his tunic to straighten out the wrinkles. "I'll pass a decree. No more blacksmiths in Castleton." Talon flinched. "Except yours," Link added quickly, clearing his throat as he smoothly regained his composure. "Naturally."

"I'll be paid, right?" Despite Link nodding his assent, Talon's face took on the expression of someone chewing on something distasteful. He spat to emphasise the point. "Agreed."

"That went well," Link said as he and Tingle rejoined the guards outside. The crowd was still there, blocking the road. Clock Tower ticked away, the hands moving with a sharp ping.

"Very good, sir," Tingle said. "I noticed you had no need for the fairy, after all."

"Can't be too careful," Link replied.

"Back to CastleMount?"

Before the Shadow Lord could reply, a scream pierced the air, sending a murmur of surprise through the crowd. All eyes turned to the sky. Thick vines wrapping itself around the clock face, its eyeless purple face grinning insanely, a Deku Baba hissed at the crowd, a small girl in its jaws, her face pale.

"Must have taken root inside," Link muttered to himself. "They really need to clean that tower out." He turned to his carriage, confident that his guards could handle the situation. The sudden silence gave him pause. Slowly Link turned back - and was faced with a throng of people gazing at him with expectant faces. He gaped, turned to his guards - and saw them all standing, head bowed, the same gormless expression on their faces. Link grit his teeth. "Oh, for the love of-"

The Shadow Lord sprang forward, cursing inwardly, but wearing a mask of determination nonetheless. Quickly making the appropriate calculations, he leapt up, grabbing onto the crisscrossed wooden beams that were nailed to the Tower. He climbed up quickly, his heart pumping in wild, irregular beats. He would have his guards hides for this!

The roof of the Clock Tower overhung at all four edges, held up by more wooden beams, this time connecting the overhang to the walls. Darting towards the clock face, he reached the two hands of the clock itself and leapt from one greasy black steel pole to the other. Finally, he reached the overhanging wooden beams, and clung on tightly, his nails biting into the grainy surface.

He paused to catch his breath. All he needed now was to pull himself onto the roof and tackle the Deku Baba itself. Coiling all his strength into his arms, he prepared to jump and -

- flinched, startled, almost slipping as the cat appeared from nowhere, hissing its displeasure.

Link glared up at the small animal. "Go away," he snarled, his jaws clenched. "Shoo!" The cat looked back lazily. "By the authority of the Shadow Lord of Castleton, I order you to shoo!" Link felt certain that had the cat had any eyebrows that it would be raising one right about now.

Tiring of the game, Link reached up with one trembling hand, desperate to catch hold of the edge of the roof above. The cat, its back arching, bared its jaws and, lightening quick, flashed its paws, leaving three neat scratch marks on the Shadow Lord's hand.

Almost letting go from shock, Link's face crumpled, his anger rising. Holding on the beam once more, he dropped his other hand to the sword on his back, clumsily grasping for the hilt. This cat, he vowed, wasn't going to see the sunset to this day. His fingers curling around the hilt, Link felt a surge of anticipation flooding his veins, making him dizzy.

He looked down - and froze. The crowd, forgotten from his own mind, were all staring up, wearing anxious but hopeful expressions. Slowly Link let go of the sword, and turned back to the cat.

"I'll give you all the mice in Castleton if you would just go away," he whispered. "Shoo." His voice grew desperate. "_Please?"_

The beam snapped.

In a heartbeat, Link had his sword out and drove it straight into the tower, gouging it a deep scar, but instantly slowing his fall. Shaking his head to clear himself of the cloud of splinters and woodchips that had followed him down, the Shadow Lord came to a stop, bringing himself no harm. A cheer erupted from the people below. Link cursed under his breath.

Gulping in air as sweat stuck to his skin, the Shadow Lord reached down and pulled the Fairy Bottle from his belt. Link counted...one, two, three...then flung the bottle into the air. It spun as it flew, sparkling as it caught the sharp sunlight of the summer's day. Hitting the overhang, it shattered into shimmering shards.

Link pushed all his strength into his shoulder, then drove his whole body through the wooden wall, broken planks of wood cutting into his skin and bruising his flesh. Instantly, as was its nature despite how much it hated it, the fairy followed him in, then spun around him in sparkling circles, revitalising his body and healing his wounds.

"Thank you," Link said, brushing himself down.

"I hate you!" the fairy spat before flying away.

Picking his sword up from the floor, the Shadow Lord bounded up the stairs and onto the roof. The Deku Baba turned towards him, saliva hanging from its mouth, its jaws snapping and hissing.

Link leapt, the swirling air tugging gently at his hat and tunic, and spun and slashed with his blade, splitting the vine that held the girl from the root. Landing deftly, the Shadow Lord glanced up as the Deku Baba howled with pain.

The corner of Link's mouth twisted upward. This was too easy.

Three slices of a sword, one mist of green blood and a hasty rescue of a little girl later, and it was all over.

Striking as much as a dramatic pose as he was able, Link took the child downstairs, then entered the street to be met by the adulation of the surging crowd.

"All in a day's work," he said, grinning as he waved.

One member of the crowd, small and hooded, did not share the people's joy, however. Angry green eyes blazing out from the shadow over her face, Princess Zelda spun on her heel and strode away, muttering under her breath three short, sharp words: "Bloody show off."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Zelda stepped out of the shadowy black carriage, gravel crunching under her boots, and tightened her shawl around her shoulders, feeling the bite of the cold morning air. Summer's breath hadn't touched this day yet, and fog drifted lazily around her legs. She was glad that she'd changed from her dress into a tunic far more suitable for daily business.

Glancing behind, she waited until both her handmaiden, Uyllna, and her close friend, the Zora, Ruto, disembarked. The carriage rumbled away, back to the small tavern owned by Zelda's father and given to her as a gift; a small home away from home, a safe place in which to spend a few secretive days in Castleton. Eyes still gummy from being woken far earlier than she was used to, Zelda's fingers curled around the nape of her shawl as she stood at the shadowy entrance of Thieves Alley. Almost unconsciously, she let her other hand drop to the sword dangling at her waist.

She felt Ruto beside her. "What's the word, dear friend?" said Zelda.

Stifling a yawn, the Zora blinked. "The King's on his way. It should take him about three days on horseback."

Zelda felt a knot of discomfort in the pit of her stomach. "And my step-mother?"

Ruto gave a short snort. "Malon's not coming, don't worry."

Letting out a breath, Zelda closed her eyes in relief. "So it's just my father we have to win over."

Ruto, however, wasn't listening. Her eyes traced the buildings in front of them; dilapidated, ramshackle places, their wooden walls stained, their doors and windows cracked. "Lovely scenery," she quipped. "We're still in the Gub, right?"

"The Hub," Zelda murmured. "We have work to do." She gestured to her two companions. "Let's go, and keep your faces hidden."

Nodding, Ruto pulled her hood around her head, then followed Zelda and her handmaiden into the Alley. Curling tendrils of grey fog parted as they made their way through, the hanging street lamps, stained thick with an accumulation of oil, not able to penetrate the gloom. "Is this really necessary?" the Zora asked, her voice betraying her underlying sense of doubt. "I heard he did rescue a little girl, after all."

Zelda made a disgusted face. "Don't be fooled by Link's little deceptions, my friend," she said, her voice soft. "He did it to enhance his reputation, nothing less, nothing more." Catching the Zora's disbelieving expression, the Princess added, "You're with me, aren't you, Ruto? You know why I have to do this, right?"

"Remind me."

Taking in a deep breath, Zelda sorted her thoughts into words. "Link is a power-mad, immoral tyrant. Insanity runs through his veins now, not courage." She saw her handmaiden glance at her, but ignored it. "Let me tell you what I know, just from the scraps I pick up from the nobility living in the Castle."

Her gaze drifted up to Death Mountain, puffing quietly in the distance. Sadness prodded her as the memories returned. "He wanted to expel the Gorons, did you know that?" the Princess continued. "Every last one of them." Seeing Ruto's shocked expression gave Zelda a little thrill of satisfaction. "Poor Darunia. If my father hadn't intervened, the Gorons would be homeless and Death Mountain would be nothing more than dust."

The temperature seemed to drop, chilling them to their hearts, as though Hyrule itself was appalled at the Shadow Lord's actions. A soft breeze blew, sending jagged bits of wood cartwheeling across the path, then into the shadows, to be consumed by the darkness.

Zelda took up her tale once more. "The proud Gorons stripped of their homeland," she continued. "All because of one sick man's whim." The Princess could hardly keep the repugnance out of her voice, repugnance that withered to bitterness as she spoke again. "Somehow Link managed to deceive my father into believing that he had nothing to do with it." Her fingers curled into a fist. "He got away without even a reprimand."

Three sets of boots echoed as they walked on, stepping over the grime and human filth that smeared the ground. Zelda's eyes fell upon the people lying in the streets, huddled in tattered blankets, their faces covered with dirt. She saw a child, his eyes bright, his face sad, and her heart twisted violently with pain. "These poor people," she breathed. "He can't even rid his city of the shady wretches that do nothing but feed on the weak." She looked at Ruto. "I promise you, once I'm Governor this city will be a much safer place to live." Shaking her head, she went on, "I've been such a fool. I'd hoped that the old Link, the one that had saved us before, would have had the strength not to become warped with power." Sadness flooded her voice. "I was wrong. He's still too young for this responsibility."

They turned down a sidestreet, the lamps here dull and flickering. Ruto kept her gaze on the ground in front of her. "To be fair," the Zora said slowly, as though carefully choosing her words, "there's other parts of the city that are prospering really well."

Zelda's sudden stare was like arrow to the heart. "I hope you're not feeling any sympathy for our former friend," she said, straining to keep her voice level. "I know you wished you'd wed him in the past. I wonder if that's still the case now."

Ruto laughed. "Oh, _please_," she said. "I'm long past that." A wicked twinkle entered her eyes. "And anyway, you're one to talk. I only tried to get engaged to him. _You_ went a lot further."

Zelda's lip twitched as she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "Quiet!" she whispered, casting a furtive glance at her handmaiden. She turned back to her friend, saw her laughing softly, and tried hard not to laugh herself. Again, without even realising it, Zelda's hand dropped to her belt, her fingers this time finding a small ring, its golden surface smooth. "I was just a child, Ruto."

"And he didn't even know!" her friend said, grinning.

It was infectious, and Zelda found herself smiling too, glad to be in the company of someone with which she could be so frank with. "He _did_ know. It was the memory charm that took it away from him."

The Zora's smiled was mischievous now. "Your father approved."

"And the memory charm affected him as well."

There was silence for a moment, then Ruto spoke again. "You never did annul it, you know. It's still legally binding. He accepted, you accepted, your guardian accepted. All that was left was to wait for the appointed time – and that's long past now. No wonder you never found anyone else, and I hear that you reject any offer that comes your way straight out of hand."

Zelda felt her heart twist once more, a conflict of emotions churning within. Confusion and hesitation won out. "Never mind that. I saw what Ganondorf did to my land." The air took on a chill edge again, the wind blowing softly. "I'm not going to let that happen ever again."

"And yet," Ruto pressed, "you still haven't had _it _annulled."

A faint smile touched the Princess' lips. "Once I'm Governor, it'll be the first thing I do, don't you worry."

"I was there, too, you know," Ruto said, her voice wistful.

"Sorry?" Zelda said, frowning at the sudden change of subject.

"When Ganondorf did what he did," the Zora explained. "Yes, yes, I _know_... I know it's just a memory. I know that when you sent Link back in time, the whole Timestream reset so that Ganondorf wouldn't take over, and would be sealed in the Sacred Realm from the start. But we kept our memories. We remembered everything."

"I know that," Zelda said gently, wishing for all the world that she could wipe those very same memories away. "But that's exactly why I have to do this."

The muscles in Ruto's face stiffened as determination strengthened her back. "Yes," she said, a slight trickle of disappointment in her voice. "You're right."

It grew darker now, the dwellings here bloated and misshapen, their coverings nothing more than large, thick leaves, still a deep green, but hanging so far over the edge of the buildings that they blocked out most of the light. Eyes, cold and unfriendly, peered out both from the shadows and from the piles of dirt-strewn blankets, lying at either side of the path.

An old man, horrendously thin as though he were nothing more than bones wrapped in stretched skin, gazed up at them, his eyes pleading. The corners of Zelda's mouth tugged down with sadness. The poor man probably was too proud to ask them for food.

Crouching beside him, her tunic stretching from the motion, the Princess reached into her belt, trying to find the hardened bread that she had stored in one of the pockets. She flicked open one flap, saw that she'd found the wrong pouch, and hissed, cursing inwardly. The man shifted to one side, his hands dropping out of sight for a heartbeat. A tight smile came to her as her fingers found the crumbling piece of bread, and handed it over to the famished man. "There you go," she whispered. "It'll be alright. I promise."

The man, his scraggly grey hair bristling from the breeze, said nothing, and gave only a short nod in response.

Standing, Zelda felt the sudden sting of hot tears. "It's horrible," she whispered. "It has to be stopped." And yet, once more, her hand found the ring at her waist, and a sudden breath of hope and longing, buried deep after many long years, touched her heart.

Ruto noticed. "But you still want to kill him, hmm?"

Zelda flinched, a guilty flush washing over her. She shook it away instantly, irritated that she'd almost succumbed to such pathetic sentimentality. She knew what she was doing. "Not kill, no," the Princess explained. "You know how my father is. He's impressed by strength, both physical and mental. He'll listen to me more if he finds Link in a less than..._healthy_...state. I just want to," she swallowed, as though not wanting to let the words form on her lips, "I just want to hurt Link." She shivered, not entirely believing that it was her who was making these pronouncements. "He won't die, though. Don't worry, I'm doing what's right. What's right for everyone."

Ruto sighed. "Enter: me," she said, jabbing a thumb at herself. "And your quest for a bounty hunter. To be honest, it was hard to find one that was willing to go near the Shadow Lord. Count yourself lucky that the one's I spoke to had too much illegal baggage for them to even dare report me. However," Ruto flinched slightly, "I did find one." She turned to the Princess. "You just have to understand that the only person who'd be willing to do what you asked would be someone who was a little…ah…unique, so to say."

They stopped in front of small building; a weatherbeaten wooden door facing them, the locking bar splintered, the top and bottom revealing gaping holes as though something had eaten them away. Ruto pushed at the door, and it swung open easily.

Darkness met them. Zelda squinted, her eyes trying vainly to find something familiar to latch on to. "Where is…?" Her words died in her throat as twin needles of yellow light suddenly appeared.

"Ah, you've arrived," a voice said, surprisingly jolly. An odd scratchy noise accompanied the voice. "I'll come out and meet you, though no doubt this is some elaborate trap by which I will meet a gruesome end - not without, I might add, me giving you all fatal wounds at the same time."

Zelda blinked. The figure had delivered the words with such cheerfulness that it had taken a moment to register exactly what he'd said.

The trio stepped back as a heavily armoured Stalfos, the metal plates covering his body clinking with each step, shuffled slowly into view. He glanced up at the shining sun. "Lovely weather, don't you think?" he said, his skeletal teeth grinning. "Though I'm certain it'll turn for the worse any minute now, bringing death and pestilence in its wake." His smile, expressed with genuine joy, grew a little wider.

Hastily, Ruto glanced from the Stalfos to the Princess, then moved quickly to speak. "We're here for the job I mentioned to you back in The Old Crow's tavern. The Pr-" she stopped, licking her lips. "My friend here –she's the one whose put out the contract and will be providing you with your reward – just wanted to meet you first."

The Stalfos held out a bony hand. "Charmed, I'm sure," he said happily. "I hope you have a very long life filled with all manner of heartbreak and torment."

Pushing down the panic and the gnawing sense that something here was decidedly odd, Zelda shook the bounty hunter's hand. "Right." She cleared her throat, noticing Ruto from the corner of her eye as the Zora made elaborate hand signals, surreptitiously keeping out of sight of the Stalfos. Zelda composed herself quickly, an easy smile spreading across her face. "Right…so, down to business. All I'm wanting from you is to hurt the Shadow Lord, not kill him. Understand that - I repeat, injure only. Break a few bones, perhaps even let him lose a limb, but don't kill him." She bit on her lip - she'd almost said '_please_ don't kill him,' and hated herself for her weakness.

"Your wish is my command," the Stalfos replied. "As a practitioner of the ancient martial art of Pessimystiko, I can assure you that I'll get the job done, though I'll probably be horribly maimed in the process." The bounty hunter smiled again.

Zelda felt something sink into the depths of her heart. "Pessimystiko?" she asked, her voice weak.

Before the bounty hunter could reply, Ruto stepped in, a forced grin on her face. "Don't worry about that," she said. "He's really good. Trust me."

Closing her eyes, Zelda felt her head begin to throb. She had no choice, she mused. This was the only again. Idly, an image of her ring flashed in her mind, making her heart catch. She smothered the thought instantly. "Doesn't the sun affect you?" she asked, facing the Stalfos once more. "Aren't you supposed to...disappear into the ground?"

"No," the skeletal figure replied. "My unique little gift; a little curse put on me by an overzealous wizard. Hence my yellow eyes -not the usual red that my brethren have. Helped me choose this line of work it did, and it hasn't let me down yet."

"And how many times have you been successful, bounty hunter?"

"At the last count," the Stalfos said, without missing a beat, "I have assassinated two thousand and forty seven people." A pause. "Give or take one or two." He smiled again. "Though, of course, you're not looking to kill anyone, so this should be easier, despite the clear fact that I may have the remains of my guts torn into tiny shreds as I attempt to fulfil the said contract."

The handmaiden, thoroughly uninterested and looking away, suddenly stood up straight, her eyes wide. Her voice cracked the air like a whip. "Milady!"

The Princess, the Zora and the bounty hunter all turned to trace the direction of Uyllna's trembling finger. Icy dread pierced Zelda's heart as she saw the Royal Guards in the distance, their hard eyes searching the streets. "Link's men," she spat. Though they wore the colours of her family's crest, she wasn't going to take any chance. Besides, there'd be too many awkward questions to answer. "We have to leave. Bounty hunter, do you accept my contract?"

"Of course," the Stalfos said.

"Then – Ruto, Uyllna – let's go," she said, before the bounty hunter could say anything else. She reached for her sword – and her fingers grasped thin air. A slab of sheer panic slammed into her heart, almost making her stumble with disorientation. "My weapon…" She looked at the others, saw the same result. "We've been robbed!"

"Yes," the Stalfos said, as though he didn't have a care in the world. "That tends to happen. Naturally, I was expecting it myself. Now, of course, you'll have to escape bare-handed, probably with the result that one of your friends will die tragically in a heroic attempt to save your own life."

Blood pumping in her veins, Zelda's eyes darted left and right, desperately searching for an exit. "Bounty hunter," she seethed, her teeth clenched tight. "Do you know a way out of here? If so, I'll triple your reward."

"As a matter of fact, I do," the Stalfos said, reaching back to make sure his sword was in place. "We'll escape, trust me."

"Good," Zelda said, a smidgen of relief tingling her. "Then, let's-"

"Though I'm certain," the bounty hunter continued, his voice sincere and sweet like honey, "we'll most likely be painfully ripped limb from limb in the attempt. I hope you're not too attached to your arms. It's always the arms that go first."

Ever so slowly, the Princess turned to face the Stalfos, her eyes burning. "You're not well, are you?"

"No time for discussion," he replied, pulling his blade free with a whisper of steel. He pushed the trio along, his ivory coloured hands prodding. "My friends, let us flee!"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The dragon Volvagia, stripped down to her skeleton, lay curled within one of CastleMount's cavernous upper chambers, her bones yellowing like melted wax. The chamber's one large window allowed a shaft of sparkling sunlight to illuminate the dead dragon's remains, revealing at that very moment two figures – the Forest Sage, Saria, draped upon Volvagia's curved skull and the Shadow Lord himself, pacing to and fro in front of her.

"And you want me to help?" Saria's dimunitive voice, made all the more tiny by the size of the room, floated in the air. "How?"

Link stopped short to stare at his old friend. His eyes dropped to the ruby, ripe with a crimson hue, gleaming around her neck, the properties of which allowed the Kokiri to leave the Forest for a few days at a time. "Just," the Shadow Lord, gesturing furtively. He'd always had a problem keeping still, as though his soul itself was itching to be released from his body. "I don't know." He realised that he'd been so much enjoying his friend's company that he'd not given much thought to a cohesive plan. "Just be there. And support me."

Saria, desperately trying to stifle a yawn brought on by the shimmering heat, idly flicked at the dragon's skull. "You don't need me for that, Link," she said softly. "What's this tournament going to consist of anyway?"

The Shadow Lord's lip twitched as he searched for the appropriate words. He hated having to explain himself. It was just so…irritating to spell things out for lesser minds. "I haven't quite worked that out yet. Talon's dealing with it."

Saria looked up. "Talon? I'd always heard he was a little lazy."

"What can I say?" Link replied, gesturing to the window where his city lay just outside. "He found himself a new trade. Blacksmith. Enjoys building things. Very motivated now that he's got himself nudged into his niche. Heartening to see, honest."

"Yes, I'd heard that, too…" Saria said slowly, her eyes beaming. "The King and tournaments… I remember that you won a joust once, and that's why he gave you control of Castleton." Tiny wrinkles formed on her face as she searched her memories. "If I recall correctly, a Zora knight won another little do some other time, and was given Zora's Domain as a reward."

Link nodded. "Exactly."

"Ruto wasn't too happy with that."

A sour look crossed the Shadow Lord's features. "Ruto is just as bad as…" He stopped, his dismissive tone evaporating. "Ruto just doesn't know what's good for her."

The Kokiri gave Link an odd look, but decided not to press the issue any further. She knew, from experience, that it was hard enough to keep track while conversing with the Shadow Lord. "But," she continued, "if you already have a stronghold to control…why are you wanting to impress him now?" Her eyes thinned to slits.

Bringing his palms together and his fingers to his lips, the Shadow Lord waited for Saria to follow through on her musings. At least, he knew, she was smart enough to work out most things on her own.

"Unless," the Kokiri went on slowly, lifting her head slightly as the sunlight got in her eyes. "Unless… you're expecting a little competition for CastleMount. And you expect this person to be familiar enough with the King that they'd enter this tournament – and then, you're hoping to beat them soundly – in public no less – and maybe even humiliate them, so that they'll never be able to curry the King's favour again." A thin smile spread across Saria's lips; the look on Link's face telling her that she'd struck home. "So, who is he?"

"She," Link corrected. "And she'll enter the tournament, don't worry. Though she'll try to kill me first, most likely."

The Kokiri, her soft features creasing into a frown, almost flinched. "She?" Saria gasped. "_Kill?_" Sudden understanding dawned in her eyes. "Oh. _Her._"

"That's right. She-"

The Shadow Lord was cut off by the sound of glass shattering. Saria's head snapped up and Link spun around as they saw the rolling arrow whiz through the air towards them. Turning gracefully on the balls of his feet, the Shadow Lord dodged the shaft, and then watched as it lodged itself with a splintering crunch into Volvagia's skull, the tail feathers still vibrating from the momentum.

Link ignored Saria's look of pure shock as he peered through the now open window, spying for an instant the brief movement of a somewhat skeletal figure. It was gone before it could even register in his mind, though he felt certain that his guards would be on it in a heartbeat. He also felt certain that he knew exactly what was going on and so wasn't about to show any fear or any hint that there'd been a disruption.

Link turned back to his friend. "Minor inconvenience," he said. "Awfully sorry."

The Kokiri gaped at him, her miniscule form trembling. "Link!" she whispered. "What's going on?"

The Shadow Lord's mind raced for a suitably appropriate explanation. It wouldn't be wise, he decided, to admit that his nemesis had found him so easily exposed. "It's rabbits, see. It's rabbit hunting season and sometimes the hunters –you know, in all the rush and whatnot - they tend to forget things, and so when they're wrapping their meat up in salt and all that, they somehow manage to leave their bows and arrows behind. Up pop the rabbits, now that it's all safe and everything, and the poor lil blighters find the weapons, get excited, and start thumping with their with feet to tell the others, then - whoosh! - arrows flying everywhere."

Saria's voice took on a dull edge. "Rabbits?"

Link's own voice dropped and his expression and posture took on a serious demeanour. "Heard one young, long-eared fellow wiped out his entire warren." He shook his head, touching his temples with the tips of his fingers. "Tragedy."

Saria looked at Link. Then she looked at the window. Then, she glanced down at the arrow, still protruding from the dragon's head. Finally, she looked at Link again, shook her head, and shrugged, regaining her composure. "Is it," she continued, trying to steer the conversation back onto familiar ground, "really all that bad if she wants to run things her own way? She is, apparently, a good person after all, or so they say at least."

Link smiled. "She's beautiful. And the best person ever."

Saria cocked an eyebrow, surprised at the earnest boyishness in his voice. It reminded her of the Link that she'd known back in the Forest. "And how would you know that? The two of you have barely spoken in the years since…since Time was 'reset.'"

Pulling on his tunic, the Shadow Lord felt the heat of irritation itch at his heart. "Of course I know what she's like. We…were…" He paused, searching for the right words. "The time I spent with her while we were both saving Hyrule, it was…it was..." What? Special? Perhaps, but no one but him needed to hear that. "You wouldn't understand."

Saria, however, hadn't finished. She leaned forward, propping her chin up with one hand. "So you grew a little attached to her because neither of you had anyone else left after Ganondorf had had his own little way with the world; the pillaging and plunder and all that. But I don't think even then you'd spent enough time to really get to _know_ her. After all, you thought she was Sheik for most of that time." A pause. "What _do _you know about her, Link? I mean, on a personal level."

Tiring of the conversation, the Shadow Lord turned away. "She's beautiful," he mumbled.

Saria tapped her chin. "That's it?"

"And," he added, less audibly now, "she sent me back."

"What?" the Kokiri asked, blinking.

"Hate her guts, though," Link said, perhaps a little too loudly, though definitely a little too quickly. He turned back. "Never mind," he added hastily. His easy smile returned. "Going back to your little query, I don't think – as well-intentioned as she is – that she has the mental tools required to run a city this big. No tools, see. Just mental."

Saria could feel a headache coming on. "She's just...mental?"

"Don't be rude now, love" Link replied. "Let me explain so that even you could grasp it."

Bristling, the Kokiri felt the heat rise to her face. "What's that supposed to mean?!"

"See her problem is this," Link said, cutting his friend off. "Beautiful as she is, it isn't enough to just 'be good.' Leave that to the regular people so that they can go to Bliss after they die. No, a true leader, a good leader, has to be responsible; he has to look at the bigger picture. She just can't do that – she gets too tied up in everybody's little drama, and so she feels she has to solve everybody's little dilemma, make every single person happy and smiling. That's impossible."

Saria laughed, a light, tinkling sound, and idly curled a strand of her hair around her finger. "Responsible?" she giggled. "You? I heard that you sold Talon some steel that bites. _Bites! _Heard his clients weren't very pleased, and that you hadn't even informed him of the exact nature of the merchandise you were selling him."

Raising his hands, as though trying to calm down an unruly crowd, Link said: "The metal was cursed; goodness knows where it came from, but it had flooded Castleton within a week. It was brightly coloured, you see, and the little children obviously couldn't keep away. It's a wonder one of them didn't get their arms ripped off. You know what Talon did with it?"

The Kokiri shook her head, waiting as she kicked the air with her heels.

Satisfaction flooded Link's face. "He made swords," the Shadow Lord explained slowly. "Swords with mouths. Swords with little teeth. Cute, really. Yes, his first clients weren't pleased. But his later ones," and here Link grinned, his voice almost gloating, "they were _very_ pleased. Talon's a rich man now; oh, he won't admit it, but I know. He's a clever one, too – I knew he was the only one that could pull it off." A pause. "The town's safe, the blacksmith's coffers are overflowing, and somewhere someone is going to challenge somebody else to a duel – somebody else who happens to have a Talon-made speciality sword, and that someone is going to find himself somewhat at a disadvantage." Another pause, as though to let the words sink in.

"So, who did…"

Anticipating her question, Link cut her off. "See, he sold his swords to the Gerudo Desert Enforcers, so the only people that are going to suffer are the thieves and the rotters that would so otherwise have gotten clean away without a scratch."

Saria shrugged, though she looked suitably impressed. "Why not tell him in the first place?"

Link raised his hand and pointed, his finger trembling. "That's exactly what I mean. You don't understand people."

"Why, thank you," the Kokiri said flatly, feeling some of her goodwill dissipate.

"You're welcome," Link murmured. "So, yes…most don't understand how others think. _She _doesn't understand people. I do. I knew Talon would just laugh off any plan that I'd give him, and no way in the Pit would he take on that kind of volatile material." Eyes narrowed, the Shadow Lord grinned again. "But since I forced him to take the horrid stuff, he had no choice but to make use of it. I knew that he'd have it in him to do what's _right_. It might look despicable to someone on the outside, but a lot of things in life look bad on the surface, but are really quite beneficial once you peel away the skin and take a really good look inside." Link was almost swaggering now. "Innit?"

A sharp whistle left Saria's lips. "Very sagely," she said, her voice soft. "But," she added, an evil glint in her eye, as though she'd just thought of a foolproof trap. "What about Darunia? Blow up Death Mountain? What were you thinking?"

"I'd just had the best scholars and craftsmen in Hyrule construct a sewer system for Castleton," Link explained, not missing a beat. "Rats were getting in, see, but when we traced 'em to their source –"

"You found," Saria cut in, suddenly understanding, "that some of them were coming in from Death Mountain."

"Right," Link said, looking pleased. "Not just some of them, they'd infested the bleedin' place. Not only that, but it was rife with all sorts of other parasites. Didn't bother the Gorons, of course. Had to smoke the rats out in the end, but detonating the Mountain would've been more permanent."

"And the Gorons themselves?"

Link shrugged. "Plenty more mountains in the sea." His smile abruptly vanished as he'd realised what he'd just said. "Um, in the valleys. Plenty more mountains in the valleys. They have a population of around fifty; you know how they're like, they live to be two hundred or something, so they're not in the habit of having large families. I, on the other hand, have over a thousand people in Castleton. It was no choice, really."

Saria slid off the top of the skull, landing daintily on her feet. "So, why the 'eyesore' explanation?" she said, making her way round to where Link stood.

"Well," the Shadow Lord said, looking sheepish. "It is really, isn't it?"

Snorting softly, the Kokiri still managed a smile. "You're still full of surprises, Link, even after all this time." She licked her lips, as he swaggered some more. "And stop that," she added. "I'm not some petty official that needs to be cowed just so you can impress on her mind just who's in charge. I know some of your tactics, Link, and I know it's just for show."

Link shrank back, looking suitably chastised. "Isn't."

"You like being underestimated," she said slowly, as though the revelation had only just come to light. "It gives you an advantage, an edge."

"Doesn't," he replied, scowling.

Another set of conclusions ripened in her mind. "And all these horrid stories about you. This whole 'Shadow Lord' thing – fear is a good way of keeping people in line, isn't it, Link? In fact, that's why you didn't tell Darunia the whole story…you hoped that should – oh, I don't know – some Goron with pretensions beyond himself would one day take over that he'd remember that you exiled them and wouldn't dare to ever challenge you." Another small frown flickered across her face. "But, then…how would you know if he wouldn't seek revenge instead…?"

As though worried that he'd lost control of the conversation, Link drew himself up to his full height. "Think what you like, sunshine. The only one who knows what goes in this head of mine is me."

"Of course," Saria said, ignoring him, "you don't think that _she_ would be able to match all your achievements?"

"Of course she wouldn't," Link replied with a dismissive snort. "Miss I'm-So-Good-Because-I-Can-Stand-Around-And-Look-Sagely-Even-Under-The-Most-Direst-Of-Circumstances wouldn't be able to sleep at night imagining all the horrors that she'll have to deal with. Let her tend to the urchins and orphans that need a bit of that kindness that she so ably can provide - in fact, I wouldn't mind a little of that myself - but leave the responsibility of thousands of people to me. I know what I'm doing. My conscience is clear."

Leaning back against the skeleton, the small Kokiri traced a finger over the curve of Volvagia's skull and gazed at her friend, her lips pursed. "I think you underestimate her." She shook her head, though not really believing her own words. Saria knew, from her brief visits to the Palace, exactly how sheltered the Princess had become. She remembered how the Princess had once pulled all the guards from their duties just to rescue a cucco trapped in a drain – admirable from one aspect, but it had left the Palace woefully vulnerable. Thankfully, nothing dire had resulted. But still…there was, if not friendship, a begrudging respect between the two of them due to the two of them being Sages.

"In fact," she went on, "I'm not even sure why I'm listening to this."

"Hear me out," Link replied, holding up a hand. "Life…life is a little bit more complicated than she thinks and just being _nice_ isn't enough. You have to have insight. Like me. It was me that cleaned up most of the streets of Castleton, not just of unsavoury people - in fact, the only place they feel safe now is in Thieves Alley; the rest of the city is free - but unsavoury diseases, too. "

"Modest as well," Saria said, under her breath. "Do you really think she'll try and kill you?"

Link shrugged. "Maybe not. Perhaps maim me or something, so that I look bad in front of the King." he replied. "Unless I kill her first, of course."

Laughing, Saria folded her arms across her chest. "You're no murderer, Link."

The Shadow Lord's face stiffened, and he put on his most haughty expression. "I am no weakling either, Saria."

"But you're still the Hero of Time," his friend said, pointing. "You saved that little girl, after all."

"Only because no one else was going to," Link countered.

Saria grinned. "But you did it anyway."

"The way I see it is like this," Link said quickly, as he began to pace once more. His heels squeaked against the polished floor and he seemed all the while like a scholar addressing a group of his most enrapt students. "There's no good versus evil, no; that's just fairy-tales. You think Ganondorf was evil? The man was doing what _he_ thought was right, given the circumstances he was in."

A shadow of doubt fell across the Kokiri's face. She said nothing, though, intrigued by her old friend's words and ever-contradictory demeanour. Link had never been one to open himself up to anyone like this, at least not since he'd left the forest long ago, and she felt privileged to see it happen now.

"And that's what I mean," Link continued. "The only thing that matters is to do what's right in whatever situation you find yourself in. You - we - owe it to ourselves to find out what 'right' really is. Ganondorf didn't. _But,_" here he stopped, spinning to face Saria, and wagging his finger in her face, "even if you do know what's right, you have to know your limits and your strengths. One person's strengths could be in alleviating the individual worries of the man on the street, another person's strength," here he pointed to himself, "could be in making sure that _society_ is running smoothly."

"So everyone has their own role to play. If they do it…"

"Everything goes peachy. And if they don't…" Link paused, sniffing.

Saria cocked her head to one side, eyebrows raised. "And if they don't…?"

Link's face darkened, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. "Then I make them do it," he said. "Or, I stop them from doing harm – either to themselves, or to the people. I've got no time for wastrels who are in love with themselves, or those whose heads are filled with idealistic nonsense, bless their little hearts nonetheless." He took in a deep breath. "You either pull your weight, or find yourselves a cave where you can shy away from the world in peace. " Link kept his gaze level. "Something I learned by analysing Ganondorf's life. It's what I live by now." He paused, then added hastily: "His methods more than his principles, naturally."

"From Ganondorf?" Saria said, blinking.

"Yes," the Shadow Lord said. "Nasty blighter - but a very smart man. Of course, I won't make the same mistakes that he made. Like I said, he didn't know what was truly right. I, on the other hand, do."

"That's…interesting." She frowned. "So...to find out what's right, we have to go to Ganondorf?"

"No, no, no," Link said, shaking his head excitedely. "That's the beauty of it. The knowledge is out there - the things I've seen in the Palace library, the Book of Strangers, for one - but people are either too idle, too content with their little pleasures or too busy wrapped in themselves to go find it, only stopping to be _nice_ when the fancy takes them. And I..." he paused to take a breath, "..am not nice."

Slightly taken back by the potent combination of sneering disdain and venom lacing Link's words, Saria was nonetheless engrossed. It was no news to her that Link would want to do what's right; she'd known that from her time with him when he was a child, and it was no surprise, considering what he later did at such a young age, that he'd take any means neccesary to do so. Yet...she knew that he'd also spent a lot of time alone following his return back home - he'd not come back to the Forest and she knew he'd lost his fairy, Navi, too. A chill took her insides as she wondered how that had affected him. She motioned for him to continue.

He smiled in response. "Knowledge, I've come to find, is really quite beautiful," he said. "And the _people _I've met that teach and practise this knowledge -let's just say you and your friends are not the only sages around in Hyrule."

"And this is related to Zelda, how?"

"Thought it would be obvious, love" the Shadow Lord replied, a gleam in his eye and a wry smile on his face. "You'd never hand a sick child over to someone who's no healer, even if he was desperate to save her, right?"

Saria nodded cautiously in response. She had a nagging sensation that she knew where this was going.

"Right," said Link. "So. It'd be a disaster, then, to let a naive woman - no matter how truly wonderful she is - to have the reins of absolute power and to be in a situation where she'd be completely out of her depth. Like a fish out of a mountain." He closed his eyes, his temple throbbing. "Out of water. A fish out of water." He cleared his throat. "In fact, it'd be downright immoral - think of all the people she could adversely affect. She thinks she's got the goods just because she was running around in a Sheikah costume for a while. But she wasn't down on the frontline like me. She doesn't know how the common man thinks. She doesn't truly know what's right." That, and the fact that Link had been aching for a challenge for the past fifteen years, but he wasn't about to tell his old friend that. His eye sparkled and his smile grew into his ever-present grin. "What do you say?"

Saria let her tongue run over her teeth as she pondered Link's words, the strength of his convictions washing over the gnawing disquiet in her heart. His words rang true, no matter how strange they appeared and it did seem, despite the fact that he wasn't that close to the Princess, that he'd made a pretty fair assessment of her idiosyncrasies, just from observation alone. Under her breath, too quiet for her friend to catch, she muttered, "You truly are a Hero of sorts, aren't you?"

Silence fell as her old friend waited patiently, and Saria felt the air grow a little thicker. She remembered her time in the Forest with Link, remembered how they'd always explore those areas that only the two of them could reach, remembered how they'd always outsmart Mido in his petty attempts to thwart them. A thrill of anticipation tingled in her chest, the same thrill that she'd felt oh so long ago. It wasn't until now that she realised how much she'd missed it. "You don't know what the tournament's about yet," she said carefully, " so how do you know you'll win it?

Cocking his head to one side, Link's eyes sparkled as the corner of his mouth curled into a lazy grin. "Leave the particular machinations of that little enterprise," he said, clicking his fingers, and then pointing at himself, "to me."

His smile was infectious, and Saria found herself responding in kind. "Alright, Shadow Lord," she said, "you've won me over. Let's make sure that you stay in charge of Castleton."

Link drew himself up to his full height, positively beaming now. He was about to hold out his hand - when he suddenly froze. Something changed in the air behind him, his neck tingling. His head snapped straight, and his eyes went straight to his friend.

"Saria!"

"Yes?"

"You'll be wanting to duck, love."

Saria's face creased with confusion. "What?"

Springing into action, Link lunged forward, grabbing his Kokiri friend and pushing her to the ground. The second arrow split the air with a _thwip_ and cracked straight into Volvagia's cheek.

Tiny bone fragments dropping onto her face, Saria looked up, one eyebrow arched in mild surprise. "Rabbits are frisky tonight."

The Shadow Lord nodded. "Indeed."

"Are you going to...?"

Link's grin returned. "Excuse me one moment."

Taking two large leaps, Link somersaulted through the open window, his vision flashing with a bolt of searing light, before being smothered instantly with inky darkness. Blinking, Link found himself on the flat rooftops of CastleMount, a cool breeze, carrying the promise of rain to come, stroking his face, pinpricks of cold starlight piercing the night sky.

Link took a glance back at the large rotating crystal held aloft by wooden pillars directly above the window. The Pearl of Nynard was unique in the fact that it collected the sun's heat and light during the day, then let it free during the night, giving the interior of certain rooms in the castle the illusion of perpetual daylight.

No guards, then – he'd have to deal with their incompetence later- and no archer, either. Eyes narrowed and sword drawn, the Shadow Lord scanned the area for his would-be assassin. Nothing. All was deathly still, the silence coiled like a scarf.

A piece of metal dropped to the ground, the sudden sound shimmering in the distance. Link grinned. _Splendid._

The Stalfos, bone-grey, armour-clad and with yellow eyes blazing, made a run for it, leaping and flipping over the various hatchways and strewn debris that littered the landscape high up above Castleton. Link gave chase, his heart ablaze with excitement, smoothly dodging each obstacle with practised ease.

The Shadow Lord glanced down at his belt. No fairy. No red potion. His eyes flicked back up, his easy grin returning yet again. No problem.

Somersaulting over a chimney that puffed smoke straight from the kitchens, Link saw that the Stalfos had reached the outermost edge, coming to a stop in front of a large gap between the main castle and the armoury. The Stalfos gave a quick glance behind, his glowing eyes narrowed to slits, then taking one step forward, he leapt, arms pirouetting, and landed safely on the other roof.

Determination rushed through the Shadow Lord's body, his muscles tightening like a vice. Picking him speed, his sword swinging from his hand, Link sprinted to the edge. Closer and closer it came in his shaky vision till, at last, he felt the ground vanish beneath him, as he leapt with all his strength. The other building rushed up towards him, far too fast. His eyes bulging, Link began to yell, half in fear, half in a maniacal battle cry. Quickly he shifted position in mid-air, the roof now swinging up a hair in his line of sight. He was going to make it! He was going to –

Link's face slammed into the side of the building, making his vision spin instantly. His free hand scrambled for to find a hold, relief finally washing away the pain as his fingers sank into hard grit. Link smiled as he pulled himself onto the roof – his luck, no doubt sent from on high, had held as usual.

The Stalfos stood, waiting, tossing his blade from one bony hand to the other. "Not so tough, are you?" he said. "Perhaps I will yet emerge victorious this night with but only a few of my bones shattered."

Link gave a thin smile. "Try 'defeated,' and with _all_ your bones shattered, my misguided friend."

The creature's eyes seemed to turn inward, as though pondering. "Yes," he said finally with a slight nod. "You're probably right."

Frowning briefly, Link pushed his confusion away, and sprang forward, sword at the ready. A flurry of frantic movement followed, hands thrusting and withdrawing fluidly, blades slicing and blocking, bathed with a silver glow in the pale moonlight.

They pushed each other across the rooftop, stopping midway as Link spun away gracefully to catch his breath.

"You're nimble with your hands, though not your feet, I'll grant you that," the Stalfos said. "No doubt you'll beat me to within an inch of my life before I defeat you in a most convenient and, most likely, highly coincidental manner."

Link pointed at his opponent with his sword. "You're not looking too healthy, mate," he said. "Need a little meat on ya."

The Stalfos lunged, crouched, then swung low, forcing Link to jump to safety. Twirling himself back up, the Stalfos aimed for the Hylian's head, but missed, catching the Shadow Lord's hat and leaving it with a small slit.

Link glanced up, aghast. "Hey!" he protested. "Watch out for the merchandise, sunshine!"

Indignation fuelling his movements, Link spun his sword, tearing the air, then jabbed once, twice, thrice, hitting home each time, sparks erupting as metal met bone. Clearly, Link mused, this Stalfos was a lot tougher than any other he'd ever faced.

Disengaging fluidly, the creature made another dash for safety. Link pursued, his mind calculating, then dug his heels in, sliding to his knees in a shower of grit. Fingers tapping on the hilt of his sword, the Shadow Lord pulled his arm back, his eyes tracking the Stalfos' every movement, and then threw, letting his blade fly.

It missed, the other creature diving into a roll at the very last moment, and Link's sword careened off the Stalfos' armour, coming to a halt on the ground. It took only a short sprint for the Shadow Lord to reach his weapon, and another equally short dash to reach his opponent once more.

"I must applaud you," the Stalfos said, his sword slicing the air, "for your far superior skills."

Polished metal flashed in Link's eyes. "That's terribly nice of you."

"In fact," the creature went on, "I think that, scant seconds after I sever your limbs, it would be highly appropriate for you to execute a somewhat nifty, yet entirely improbable, acrobatic manoeuvre before plunging your sword home for the killing blow."

"I'll keep that in mind, mate, thanks."

Again they danced around each other, gleaming blades flying, as they moved across the flat surface until, finally, they reached a steel flagpole, behind which was yet another gap, this time between the armoury and the next building.

Ducking behind the pole, Link whirled away to safety. "If you'd be so kind enough to tell me your name and who sent you, I'd then be able to kill you with a good deal of satisfaction, and before supper, too."

"My name is Rojan," the Stalfos said, and swung again. Link ducked again, and metal met metal as the sword clanged into the pole with a dull ring. "Remember it well, for it will haunt your dreams as you recall how it was I dismembered you just before I suffered the life-ending injury that, I might add, I so richly deserved."

Ignoring Rojan's somewhat skewed worldview, Link pressed on. "The Princess sent you, right? Zelda?"

A hint of a frown – difficult as it was to interpret – crossed the Stalfos' skeletal features. "It was a woman, yes. Princess? I'm not sure about that."

"Blonde hair, green eyes - used to be blue, but she met with a little accident. Nasty stuff, really – and very, very pretty. Ring any bells?"

"Sir," Rojan said, bending at the knee slightly, "you talk too much."

He sprang forward, catching Link completely unawares, and drove into the flagpole, bringing himself, the pole, and Link straight down. The Shadow Lord, his sword flying from his hand, screamed as the gap swooped up to meet him – and then came to a jarring stop, the upper end of the pole landing safely on the other roof, but leaving the two fighters hanging in the middle, feet dangling over empty air.

Link glanced down, and his chest tightened instantly. The ground was a long way down, dizzying in the height that separated its grease stained surface from himself. Link could feel his whole body thump in time with his heart, cold sweat coating his skin, and his fingers stretched painfully as he desperately tried to hang on. Hanging over certain death for the second time in two days – perhaps his luck truly had run out.

The Shadow Lord felt something prod at him from behind. He paused, frozen, then gingerly turned around, feeling the pole tremble slightly as the Stalfos attempted to jab at Link with his sword.

"Do you mind?" the Shadow Lord snapped.

Yellow eyes, burning with fierce determination, stared back. "I have vowed to bring your arm back on a plate," he replied, grinning. "And I shall use whatever means at my disposal to do so."

Link glanced down at the streets spinning below them. "I don't think you quite appreciate the gravity of our current situation."

"Oh, it's no bother to me," the other replied. "I always knew I'd perish most painfully while attempting to grasp at the threads of the most sweetest of victories."

Link stared at the Stalfos coldly. "There's a whole beautiful world out there, mate," he said. "You need to get out more."

"I tire of this idle chatter," Rojan said, bringing his blade to bear. "Let us end this now. If you'd just stay there for a minute longer, I can saw off one of your arms, leaving you somewhat in a pickle, before I slip off this pole and suffer a most horrific fall."

"I like that last bit." Gripping the pole as tightly as he could, Link swung his legs back, then drove both boots into the Stalfos' chest.

A look of pure surprise blossomed on Rojan's face as he found himself flung into the armoury's wall. He blinked, then slid down silently, straight to the ground.

Quickly Link pulled himself to safety, then peered down. The Stalfos glanced up, grinned, then ran off, enveloped by both mist and darkness. The Shadow Lord watched him go, his eyes thinned. "Be seein' you around, mate," he said softly. "Be seein' you."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"A tournament?" Zelda pulled the curling scroll free from the wall to which it was attached, glancing over the stylised handwriting, the ink still fresh. "In honour of the King's forthcoming visit."

She stepped back a little, rejoining Ruto. She'd sent her handmaiden back to her tavern some time ago, having learnt her lesson from their narrow escape from Thieves Alley and feeling no need to drag Ullyna into any more danger.

All around them, here in the main promenade of the Hub, people were rushing around wrapped in their own little worlds, though it did seem that they now had an extra spring to their steps. Small groups of men, pointing, murmuring and rubbing their chins in thought, crowded around the myriad other scrolls nailed up by the Royal Guards that morning.

"It looks like," Zelda said, "Link has played his hand."

Ruto eyed her cautiously. "I suppose you'll be entering then."

Lips pursed, the Princess nodded. "Of course."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" the Zora asked. "He's obviously expecting it. And, I don't know, is a tournament really your niche?"

Zelda turned to her, eyes thinned. "You forget. I was once Sheik of the Sheikah. A little game like this isn't going to fluster me, I assure you."

Ruto peered at the scroll, then glanced up at her friend. "I don't think harp playing is included in the schedule."

"Very droll," Zelda said, making a face. Her eyes scanned the rest of the parchment. "Register at the Town Hall, it says. Looks like that's our next port of call." She glanced over at the mass of people, a throbbing sea of different colours and faces. "So many…" she whispered, a finger to her lips. "How do we get there?"

A shadow fell across the two friends, a sudden needle of ice pricking their hearts. They turned, blinking as their eyes adjusted to the abrupt loss of light, and found themselves facing a Poe, his tattered hood fluttering in the breeze, his glowing eyes watching them intently.

Zelda glanced at Ruto, then at the newcomer. "Can you help us?" she asked softly.

The lantern in his unseen hand trembled, its wan light smouldering, and the ghostly figure backed off a few feet. Confused, Zelda tried again. "Is there anything the matter?"

Twin specks of scarlet hue blossomed on the darkness that was the Poe's face before it spoke, its voice soft, its words halting. "Help…can…I."

Seeing the frown on the Princess' face, the Poe gave a gurgle of frustration. A flurry of movement followed, the scratch of a quill on a parchment most prominent. A scroll floated from the Poe's hood, then unfurled, revealing the words: _I can help you._

Zelda swallowed, not sure how to phrase her next query, but deciding to take the most direct route in the end. "Can't you speak?"

Another burst of motion followed, and the sound of more frantic writing hung in the air. Then, as before, yet another scroll revealed itself: _Please forgive me. I express myself better in writing than in speech, a flaw for which I am most ashamed. _

Zelda blinked. "Oh."

A quill scraped paper. _I can guide you to the Town Hall, avoiding most of the crowds. I wish only to help; that's all I'm ever good for._

Out of the corner of her eye, the Princess saw her friend shrug, a look of boredom plastered on her face. Clearly, Ruto saw no danger. Zelda herself, too, was willing to trust the shy ghost, her heart filling with pity for his condition. Perhaps…perhaps they could both help each other. "I would be honoured," she said, smiling, "if you'd lead the way."

The floating apparition gave a small nod, then headed off, Zelda and Ruto in tow, and entered the twin streams of people – each moving in opposite directions - that filled the main pathway.

"You'll have to reveal yourself," Ruto said; addressing Zelda and deftly dodging a passing Hylian carrying a stained bucket, water sloshing over the rim. "You'll have to sign up with your own name."

Zelda made a dismissive gesture, her eyes fixed on their guide as he bobbed and weaved in, out and over the throng. "It's no matter," she said. "Father should be here by this evening, and I'd have to be show myself then anyway." She pushed through the swarm of people, her nose wrinkling from the smell of human sweat mixed with the charred aroma of cooked meat. "Any news from our bounty hunter?"

Ruto's lip twitched. "He...ah...needs more time," she murmured. "Said the first attempt met with a few difficulties."

"He's got until sundown," the Princess said quietly. "It wouldn't go down too well if there were attacks on Link while my father was present."

They turned left, then right, then left again, the towering height of the Town Hall, all pillars and carefully crafted woodwork, appearing on the horizon like a blot.

"Tell me something, my friend," Zelda said, her tone thoughtful. "Doesn't it bother you that my father handed over your Domain to one of your knights? I mean..." she paused, as though in pain, "I hope you don't hold a grudge or anything."

Ruto winced. "I did at first," she said slowly. "But now I feel I'm happier without the burden of politics on my shoulders." She gave Zelda a meaningful look. "It's very liberating, to be honest."

A finger of dread prodded the Zora's heart. She'd been meaning to bring something up for a while now...and it seemed this was the right time. Clearing her throat and steeling herself, she said, "Princess, I've wondered whether you've..." Her voice trailed away.

Zelda glanced at her. "Whether I've what...?"

Ruto took in a deep breath. "Whether you've actually given any thought to just sitting down with Link and talking out your differences."

"That was the first thing I did when I arrived, you know that." The Princess shook her head. "No...he won't listen to reason."

"Well," Ruto pressed on, "perhaps if the two of you were a little more willing to compromise and, I don't know, focus on things you have in common." Her eyes found Zelda's face once more. "Like a shared past for one."

"He won't remember," Zelda said, her voice sad. "The mad wizard that detonated the memory charm did a lot of damage."

"A charm aimed at you and your father, if I remember," the Zora said. "Until little Link put himself in its path."

The Princess' cheek twitched. "I'm just glad all rogue wizards and witches have been round up now. As they all should - power like that just isn't...right."

So. She didn't want to talk about it. "And the power of this charm...?"

"It was strange," Zelda said. "It only seemed to eliminate selected memories -not everything. But I've heard it still affects him from day to day even now. Just another reason why he shouldn't be in control."

"Must be hard for him," Ruto said, her tone wistful. "Isn't there a cure?"

"A lot of things are hard for him. It must have damaged him to be sent on a quest for the Spiritual Stones at such a tender age, and _then_ to be thrust into a body seven years too old for him, and then brought back to his former age. Perhaps it's little wonder he turned out the way he did. As for a cure," her hand found her ring once more, "I've done some studies. There might be something." Her thumb and forefinger pressed the ring between them. "I just didn't know whether I wanted to risk it."

Raising her eyebrows, Ruto said nothing. Zelda, on the other hand, caught the gesture. "It might cause him more damage, you see," she explained. "Just forget it. The best healers examined him and said there was nothing to be done. It's permanent. I felt it best to just leave him alone and let him live his life from then on."

"And this was just after meeting him again after sending him back to our time, right?"

"Not quite," The Princess' face took on a faraway look. "We spent a short amount of time together. That's how I got this, remember." She gestured at the ring.

"So that would be his last true recollection of you, then?" Ruto asked. "Of you sending him back, I mean."

Zelda frowned. "Yes," she said. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," the Zora went on. "At least you both still have some common experiences."

"It doesn't matter," the Princess replied. "The person he is now isn't the person he was back then."

"Right." Ruto sighed. "This is the only way, then?"

"Indeed."

News had travelled fast, obviously, as upon their arrival the two friends saw that the space leading to the stairs of the Town Hall was now filled with makeshift stalls; the traders and sellers of inexpensive wares having taken root in order to jostle any who had come to sign their name.

Morning's glow made all the merchandise shine all the more brighter, jewels passing through fingers looking like a waterfall of sparkling colours, draped silks looking like a sea of shimmering brightness.

Zelda and Ruto passed through the assembled stalls, trying to make their way to the Hall itself, their Poe companion drifting patiently above. The Princess saw all manner of things, from the mundane to the strange. Dried healing herbs, crinkled and withered, lay displayed on one table; the same herbs used to make red potion. A lantern sat on another stall, burning fiercely but giving off no light. The Princess blinked, her mind not able to wrap itself around the contradiction and starting to throb as a result, then glanced away.

Ruto pulled on her sleeve. "Look."

Zelda looked, and saw that, at the centre of a large crowd of people, there stood a very vision of loveliness. Clad in dark green, fairies encircling her slowly leaving a trail of sparkling light, the Guardian Spirit waited patiently, a smile on her smooth features, her long hair streaming behind her despite the lack of strong wind.

"She's beautiful," Zelda murmured. "A Spirit of Wisdom herself." A sudden thought hooked into her mind. "Come, Ruto. If I present my case to the Guardian, perhaps I'll get some sagely advice in return."

Pushing their way through the gawping crowd, the two friends managed to get to the front, where Zelda, remembering the etiquette taught to her in court, grasped the Spirit's hand, holding tightly. The Princess glanced up, and was met by a face radiating pure kindness and carrying an air of detached serenity. No doubt, Zelda thought to herself, the Spirit's well of wisdom allowed her to live her life without once distressing over the trivialities of life.

"Oh great Guardian Spirit," the Princess whispered. "I have come from afar on a matter that brings immense distress to my heart. I beg you to hear out my entreaty, and to judge in both kindness and wisdom."

Zelda waited as silence fell, blood pumping in her ears. The breeze, cool and smooth, touched her face, the murmur of noise accompanying any large town melting into the background. She remembered the stories she'd been told as a child; stories of the Spirits that would set aright travellers gone astray, of the Spirits who, with only their words, would mend hearts shattered by the travails of life, or would present nuggets of wisdom unravelling even the most complex of conundrums. Here, the Princess felt certain, she would find an answer; here, bathed in the very milk of kindness and wisdom itself.

"Stop snivelling," a disdainful voice shrilled, "and let go of my hand, you great lump of mucus."

The Princess jumped back, startled.

"The amount of times," the Spirit went on, "I've had people grovel in the dirt asking me for advice – it's just getting ridiculous." Her voice grew. "What is wrong with you people? Yes, I glow, yes, I'm a little easy on the eyes, if I do say so myself, but since when does that mean I'm any smarter than any other person in this thrice-cursed city. Though," her voice dropped, "I am starting to believe it myself." She belched. "Excuse me."

Zelda looked at Ruto. Ruto looked at Zelda. They both looked at the woman.

"And you can both stop staring at me right now, you great pair of lemons."

"But," the Zora said, her voice quivering. "We just wanted a bit of wisdom."

The woman flicked her wrist and, out of nowhere, a large tome appeared and landed squarely on Ruto's head. "Go read a book."

Her nose set firmly in the air, the woman glided past then, leaving Zelda to gently pull her friend to her feet. "Their reputation is somewhat exaggerated," she said. "Are you alright?"

The Zora rubbed her head. "I'll be fine," she sniffed. "Aren't you supposed to be the Sage of Wisdom anyway?"

Zelda winced at the challenge she heard in her friend's tone. "It doesn't quite work like that," she murmured. "It's more like… more like I'm the Guardian of Wisdom. To protect it from those that would take it away, or use it for immoral purposes."

Finally reaching the steps, they trotted up, the Poe gesturing for them to follow. Ruto frowned, still pondering Zelda's words. "Wisdom is a tangible thing?"

"Something like that."

They passed through the yawning marble and brass arch that signified the entrance to the building, then found themselves in the lobby, the wooden floor shining with gloss, the sharp tang of varnish overwhelming. A whirlpool of activity surrounded them – gears, pulleys and chains, though unseen from their eyes, still managed to create a din; rumbling and grinding, punctuated by the occasional ping. Carved desks and polished staircases moved seemingly on their own volition, connecting one part of the Hall with another. Intricately designed and working in perfect harmony, Zelda couldn't help but be a little impressed.

Fairies buzzed through the air, twinkling baubles of incandescent light, carrying bundles of scrolls and, with fury laced but still tiny voices, snapping at anyone who didn't dodge out of their way fast enough. Clocks hung on one wall, trimmed gold and ticking away rhythmically. Each one told a different time, a small label underneath explaining which part of Hyrule any one particular clock represented. _Lake Hylia_ said one. _The Palace_ said another. A different one proclaimed to tell the time of _The Eyesore._

Ruto let out a low whistle. "Link's certainly expanded his horizons. To think he designed all this without any magic…"

Lips pursed, Zelda shook her head. "It wasn't just him," she said, a touch too defensively. "He gathered the best scholars in Hyrule before he constructed this monstrosity."

"Monstrosity?" Ruto said, her eyebrow cocked. "It's a work of art, Princess. You can't deny that."

Zelda, scowling, was about to let fly with a heated retort when the floor in front of the trio split apart slightly, paused, then opened up completely, a desk rising slowly from the hole. A chair spun around, revealing a suspiciously blonde Hylian female, a wide grin – apparently permanent – spread on her face. "Good morning!" she chimed, her voice all too pleasant. "Our liege, the most wonderful Shadow Lord, welcomes you to Castleton Town Hall." She glanced at all three of them in turn. "How may I help you?"

Zelda struggled hard to bite down the rising sense of disgust she felt. "We're here to sign up for the tournament," she said, her teeth clenched. "If you'd just point us in the right direction…"

The woman's grin seemed to impossibly stretch just a notch. "Certainly!" she said, sweeping her arm with a flourish. "Through here, please."

Looking past the annoyingly grinning female, the Princess saw the entrance to a massive hall, inside of which there stood assembled an ocean of tables weighed down by reams of parchment and manned at each one by a Hylian furiously scribbling away with a quill, their fingers stained black with drenched ink.

Zelda made to move forward, then paused, a sudden thought tickling her heart, and glanced up at the Poe. The ghost, looking very small and frightened, fidgeted in the air, his eyes darting frantically. Zelda saw Ruto staring with a quizzical frown, but ignored her. An idea, watered by hope itself, germinated in the Princess' mind.

"Say," she said, her voice trembling slightly. Her heart was thudding, too; a strange reaction, but she couldn't stop herself from feeling thrilled. Her Poe companion was about to have his life changed – all thanks to her. "Why don't you go into the hall, my friend?" she said, syrupy sweet. "I'll give you all the details…you'll just have to pass them on to the people inside. You can even write it all down if you want."

The spirit looked positively aghast, though it was hard to tell from the shadow enshrouding his face. He scrawled away desperately: _No, I can't. _

Zelda smiled. "Yes, you can," she cooed. "Just try. You'll be helping us a lot."

A trembling scroll unfurled. _You don't understand. Please. I'm not like that…I stumble over my words and I'll make a fool of myself. Just let me be!_

Zelda's heart tugged. "I'm sure if you'd let yourself take the first step, it'll be a lot easier than you think." The poor soul. All he needed was a little push. "Go on. Just go ahead…and do it. It's so easy…I know you can do it."

The Poe's eyes flared suddenly, a scroll appearing in thin air: _NO, I CAN'T._

Before their very eyes the parchment scrunched itself into a ball, then flew straight into Zelda's shocked face. The Poe gave them one last look of heated resentment, then darted away.

The Princess stood there, open-mouthed, her face still stinging. What had gone wrong? She felt Ruto touch her elbow. "At least," the Zora said, a strange look on her face – was it pity? Or satisfaction? "At least it wasn't a book, hey?"

Pulling away with a jerk, the Princess strode into the next room, her face set. A knot of humiliation and rage left a blister on her heart, and Zelda was determined to do at least something right today. She came to a halt in front of one of the tables and slammed a palm down hard, making the both the pile of scrolls and the attendant himself jump.

"I'd like to sign up for the Shadow Lord's tournament, please," she said.

The attendant glanced at her, his eyes glazed over with fatigue, and sniffed dismissively, waving away the cloud of dust that had puffed slowly into the air from Zelda's gesture. He pulled a parchment closer and tapped his fingers against his quill, dripping it briefly in a nearby inkwell. "Name?"

The Princess glanced around the room before she spoke. "Zelda," she said, her voice raised. A number of people looked up. Conversations died away. She glanced down at the attendant, noted his gaping expression with a good deal of satisfaction, and gave a thin smile. "Princess Zelda Harkinian."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Joria Z'int looked up at the clouds, saw them frosted with moonlight, and sighed, knowing there would still be no rain to lift the heat from the summer. She dragged a sack behind her, limping down the near-deserted street, the hanging lamps bright but barely piercing the gloom.

Grain spilled from the sack and she spat, lifting a hand to her brow and wiping it. Still she was no nearer to home. Still she had to carry this accursed thing for so long. The thought made her heart sink.

"Here, let me help you."

Joria jumped at the sudden sound of the voice and, glancing around, saw a hooded, cloaked man approach, his face hidden. Without waiting for her to reply, he heaved the sack onto his shoulders with a grunt.

"Lead the way, _M'alaray._"

M'alaray. An ancient term of respect used only for wise women. Joria smiled. A polite young man then, helpful and educated, too. He clearly wasn't going to attack her, as he would have done so already. "Thank you," she breathed. "So nice to see someone who actually looks out for others."

"Everyone should," the stranger replied. "Everyone in the town should be attending to everyone else. It's the proper way of the world."

Add naive to the list, Joria thought. She snorted. "Tell that to the Shadow Lord," she said, her tone biting. "I doubt he knows what hardships I have to go through." Gesturing, she began to lead him home.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Man has no idea of the little people like myself." She took in a deep breath. No sense getting angry.

"The Shadow Lord has no idea?"

"That's what I said."

"Our Shadow Lord?"

Joria let out a breath. "Who else do you think I'm talking about? Link! 'Hero' of Time. He's done nothing heroic for me, I can tell you. I'm sorry if this destroys the image you had of him, but the truth is the truth."

"I apologise, I was just...I didn't think..." He shook his head. "How is it," the stranger continued, "that you're dragging this sack of grain through the night all by yourself?"

Joria squinted as the glare from one of the lanterns caught her eye. "The scum at the Granary."

"The Granary?"

Gritting her teeth, Joria snapped, "Let me finish, boy." He was just like his grandchildren, impulsive and impatient.

"Right. The Granary?"

"They only give the food – well, not food, just grain, but anyway – they only give it out to the rich and their friends." She dodged a broken crate left on the ground, glanced behind her to make sure the stranger had done the same. "It's meant to be for people like me – widows who have no-one to wait on them. They give it to anyone who asks, even if they don't deserve it."

"Is that so?"

Shivering from the sudden chill in the stranger's voice, Joria changed track. "Still...I can relax now, watch the tournament tomorrow in peace."

"You're looking forward to it?"

What a silly question. "Everyone is! It's the talk of the town!" Joria cried, excitement bubbling inside. She couldn't help it; it made her feel young once more. "It's about time, too. The Palace has them almost all the time. They must lead a far more exciting life than us in Castleton."

"I doubt that."

Joria frowned. What a strange...stranger. Of course he was...he was wearing a hooded cloak in this heat. "Well. Hmm. I heard Franco DeZorres is taking part." She sighed, then chided herself for her foolishness. "Now, there's a _real_ man."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well." She paused, struggling to organise her thoughts. "He's so gallant and dashing. And he's been on so many adventures. I'm sure he could run this city far better than the Shadow Lord."

"Anyone can have an adventure," the stranger countered. "If we just took time to explore and appreciate all the little things around us."

"Yes. Well. A wonderful man, he is. Far better than any of us. After all, the 'Daily Hylian' has written so much about his interesting life. Gives to charity, you know. My own granddaughter has a pictograph of him; she hangs it on the wall of her chambers. Dreams to marry someone just like him."

"Is that likely?"

The stranger was beginning to irritate her now, and Joria picked up her pace, eager to get home. "Well, no. Let the girl dream, eh?"

"What use are dreams?" the stranger said. "It keeps people from experiencing real life. Let her go out and see what's out there; let her have her own adventures, let her see real people, warts and all."

Joria cleared her throat. "Let her do anything she wants? That's not good. Besides, its not safe."

"Not anything she wants. Let her do something useful. Something that will give her a real experience, something practical, something that will make her feel like a part of the world."

Joria stopped in front of her little house, glad to be home. "Like?"

"Like helping you carry grain home."

"Well." Joria sniffed. "We're here. Thank you."

"No," the stranger said, backing off into the darkness once more. "Thank you."

2

"Link?"

Saria tapped lightly on the door to the Shadow Lord's private chambers, her ear against the carved wood, blinking as she strained to catch any hint of movement from within.

"Link?" she tried again, her voice soft, noticing the light spilling out from the crack near the bottom of the door, bathing her boots in a yellow glow. "The King's arrived. He's waiting."

Gently, she pushed against the door and, to a prickle of surprise, she found it opening slowly, a low creak emanating from the hinges. She swallowed, and glanced around as she pondered whether to enter. A slight edge of consternation brushed the back of her mind – why were there no guards here? In fact, she realised, the only person she'd met on the way here was Tingle.

Heart thudding in her chest, Saria shuffled inside, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. No, she corrected herself, it wasn't that dark – it was just that the candles here were so far apart that they could only cast ghostly shadows of light against the darkness.

Saria let the door close behind her as she gazed around the room in wonder, her eyes wide. Piles upon piles of books and scrolls filled the chamber, occupying every available space, as though it were blasphemy to leave even a single inch free. Coated with dust, the pages yellowing, the books were lined with an incandescent glow as they caught the faint, flickering candlelight.

The wooden floor creaked under her feet as Saria made her way in further. There was, she noted, no other piece of furniture here save for a small bedroll tucked into one corner, and even that was in disarray, as though a tornado had swallowed it whole, chewed it up, then spat it out in disgust. Aside from that, the only other thing she noticed were the small bottles littered here and there, empty but stained red from their previous content. Saria wrinkled her nose in disgust.

Her eyes fell upon an unfurled scroll, the parchment itself waxy, the writing upon it slanted and stylised. She frowned as she read: _A Study into the Supposed Inter-Dimensional Portals within Hyrule Castle._

What in Hyrule did that mean? She reached out for it, meaning to study it further, when a hand snapped out of the darkness and grabbed her wrist. Her heard jerked up, her eyes finding the interloper instantly.

"Link," she sighed, relaxing. "There you are. Where have you been? Never mind, you're here now."

"Indeed I am, sunshine," he smiled. "And here you are, where you're not supposed to be."

Saria, accustomed to Link's blunt manner of speech, ignored the accusation. "I came to tell you that the King had arrived." She glanced over his clothes. "Why are you wearing a hooded cloak in summer?"

"The King!" the Shadow Lord replied quickly. "Good, good. Suppose I should go greet him." He turned to face her. "Go on, then."

Saria frowned. "What?"

"Tell me what you think of my humble abode. I know you're just itching to tell me off."

A little startled that he'd guessed her thoughts so easily, Saria was still able compose herself to say what she'd brooding upon ever since stepping inside. "Why do you live like this?" Her voice was a little too strained, her heart fluttering with concern. "You have wealth, Link, you can live more comfortably than this. In fact," her eyes found his, "you should be living in luxury."

"I should?" He gave his usual grin, then made for the door. "Is that written in the Code of Honour, I wonder? Or in the Book of Assistance?"

"It's just not right," Saria said, holding firm. "That the people in this city live in comfort while their liege lives like...like this!" Another flicker of concern brushed her thoughts. "Do you even eat properly?"

"Ah." He spun around, ignoring her question, his narrowed eyes gleaming. "Ah. But would the people be living in such splendour, I wonder, if someone hadn't studied all this," he swept his arm out towards all the books, "in order for them to be able to achieve such comfort?"

"You should eat," Saria mumbled, fidgeting with the pockets on her belt.

He smiled again. "The drone lives his life in servitude in order for the Queen Bee to live her life to the full. Of course, in the case of Castleton, the situation is reversed. Long live the drones, eh?"

Saria stood and blinked, the realisation of her friend's sacrifice making her curious, but not stopping her from more immediate concerns. She pulled out some bread, somewhat squashed but edible, from a pouch. "Eat."

Link glanced around the room, frowning, a finger to his lips. Finally he found what he'd been looking for and pulled free a parchment from under a pile of books, coughing as a cloud of dust floated lazily into the air. "Listen to this," he said.

Saria thrust the bread into her friend's face. "_Eat!_"

Scowling slightly, the Shadow Lord took the food with a half-hearted glare, glanced at it, sniffed, bit into it, then returned to his scroll. " 'Know, dear reader, that if you see a leader who strips his people of their wealth to feed his own lusts that such a person is a wretch. Know, too – what are you doing?"

"Tidying up."

Link stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. "'Know, too, that if you see a leader who claims to love the people, and gives them all that they want, whilst all the while taking the larger share for himself that such a person is a danger; a leech upon society, deceptive and cunning like a fox.'" He laughed. "I like this next bit – hey, sunshine, leave that right there!"

Saria put the said item – a large tome coated with some sticky fluid – back where she'd found it. "Carry on."

The Shadow Lord gave an exasperated snort, his voice taking on a menacing edge. "Interfering little busybodies. I should hang them all and then string them all out to –"

"Link, I'm still in the room."

Looking positively startled, the Shadow Lord mumbled, "Sorry, sorry. Got a little ahead of myself."

"Go on."

"Excuse me?"

"Carry on with what you were quoting."

"Oh, yes." He cleared his throat. "'This type of leader should be removed to save the people from his evil, though only if they can see with clarity that the gifts they are receiving are meant to make them docile, not happy. If they cannot do this, then the people get the leader that they deserve.'" The Shadow Lord looked up. "Interesting, don't you think? From the Book of Principles by the Son of the Praised. The best leader is one with no selfish vices."

"Interesting," Saria murmured, standing upright and brushing the dust from her tunic. She tapped her finger against an empty potion bottle, giving off a slight ring. "No selfish vices indeed."

Link slammed his fist into the parchment, creasing it and unsettling dust. "No." And again. "Selfish." And again. "Vices." And yet again.

"Link," the Kokiri said softly. "Why are you hitting the scroll?"

"I'm making a point, love."

"Stop hitting the scroll, Link." She glanced over at his bedroll, noticed the blackened crusts of _something_ lying on the floor beside it. "What's that?"

"Breakfast."

She winced. "You eat breakfast while lying down?"

The Shadow Lord's cheek twitched. "Don't start."

"But-"

"Don't!"

Swallowing, her thoughts finally in order, Saria took the plunge: "Link, if you know all this, why don't you teach it to the people? Why don't you explain things to everyone – I don't know, in public sermons - instead of acting...so..." It hit her just then, and all she could do was blink.

"Shadowy?" Link said, still smiling. "Looks like you've just hit the bullseye, love." A strange expression fell across his face, and Saria's heart tugged, so much did it remind her of the friend that she'd once known. "You know what's wrong with the people? What's wrong with the King? They like to indulge in idle diversions; they so love to be amused. This tournament," bitterness needled into his voice now, "all these tournaments -"

A sharp rap at the door cut Link off. "What is it?" he called, irritated.

Tingle's muffled voice reached them. "Milord, the King is waiting."

"Tell him I just died."

"Very good, sir."

"Wait, wait." Link bounded over to the door. "Do us a favour, mate." His voice dropped, but Saria, if she strained, could still make out what was being said. "Make sure we have someone posted at the Granary – someone we trust, mind – to look over everyone who's asking for food. I want priority given to widows and those incapacitated. None of the wealthy should be touching that food."

"Very good, sir."

"And I want whoever's running that place to come report to me after the tournament. Now, be off with you."

Saria stared at her friend. "What was that?"

"What?"

"_That!_ About the Granary."

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, the Shadow Lord looked away. "You know, you ask too many questions, love."

Saria folded her arms over her chest, her eyes blazing. "I'm just a little concerned about how my _friend _is living his life."

"Fill your little heart with bigger concerns, dear. Now, where was I?" He frowned. "Oh, yes. Tournaments." The acid tone returned. "One or two, that'd be fine, but there's almost every week at the Palace. The people, the King, they're addicted to them – it keeps them from thinking about the burdens of their own lives. But they're nothing, these tournaments, empty and unreal."

"Unreal?"

"Unreal because too much of it blunts their lives – they think only these diversions make them happy, make them feel, I don't know, superior, but they learn nothing, nothing that helps them alleviate the burdens that they're so eager to hide from, nothing that helps them reach their own potential – they're too busy watching people who they consider to be real examples of humanity, instead of trying to _be_ real examples of humanity themselves."

Saria watched him cautiously as he finally stopped, noting that he was somewhat out of breath. "Then why are you holding a tournament? If this is how you feel."

"Do you think I could go out there and reel off a list of why I believe Zelda doesn't deserve my throne? No. The only way I can make the people and the King understand is to humiliate her in defeat; that's the only language they understand." He picked up one of the scrolls and let his fingers glide over it lovingly. "They don't comprehend this. They don't see that their amusements give them nothing tangible in their life, but this...this knowledge could transform them if they'd let it. In the end, nothing is real for them, nothing gains their attention, unless it amuses them."

"Listen, Link," Saria said, trotting over to the door and opening. "This is all very fascinating." And it was, she had to admit, as her mind was awhirl. "But we should really greet the King. Etiquette, and whatnot."

Nodding, the Shadow Lord gestured for her to go on ahead. They went straight down to the main hallway, Tingle joining them along the way, to find the King and his courtiers, still wrapped in their travel garments, waiting somewhat impatiently.

"Well, look who it is," Link mumbled.

Saria followed his gaze. "The Princess."

"The Princess," Link confirmed. "Must have joined her father earlier."

Saria noted, with a hint of mild surprise, that Zelda was, for some reason, holding her wrist gingerly. She didn't notice the Kokiri, but her companion, Ruto, did, and gave a small nod, smiling. Saria returned the gesture.

She glanced at Zelda again, but the Princess' attention was elsewhere, her hard eyes set. She had, Saria realised, a few more guards around her than usual.

"Link!" the King boomed, beaming, his arms outstretched. "I've been waiting for you, my young friend!"

The Shadow Lord grinned in response, catching the older man in a fierce hug. Saria saw that her old friend had, in the time it had taken for them to get here, grown somewhat in stature, walking now with a regal strut.

"You honour us with your presence, Your Highness," the Shadow Lord said, his voice now clipped and precise. "I welcome you all to Castleton, and pray that you have both a beneficial and most comfortable experience."

"Of course, of course," the King said, waving the words away frantically. "How are you these days?"

"My health is impeccable," the Shadow Lord replied. "As is yours, it would seem. This brings joy to my heart." He smiled. "And how is the most delicious and simply quite irresistibly stunning Malon nowadays? That's a sight I really want to feast on."

Silence descended on the hallway as though it were a slab of stone. All conversations died, save for the occasional cough and nervous whisper.

The King stared hard at the Shadow Lord. Saria's heart tightened, her mouth dry.

"Link," the King said, his tone cautious. "That's my wife you're talking about."

There was another pause, a twinkle sparkling in Link's eyes, before his ever-present smile returned. "So she is." He raised his hands. "I do apologise. Whatever was I thinking?"

The King watched him for a moment more, then, to the relief of everyone in the room, her burst into deep laughter. "That's my boy!" he cried. "Always teasing me, aren't you? Yes, yes, the Queen is well and sends her regards. Look, look..." He pulled Link towards the others. "Zelda is here, too. In fact, I think she's been here quite a while and not left. You tend to have that effect on her, eh?"

Zelda scowled as Link shrugged sheepishly.

"Would you believe," the King continued, "that she's entered herself into this tournament you've arranged in the morning? Terrible, isn't it?"

Link almost smirked. "Shocking."

Zelda, her mouth in a tight line, rolled her eyes.

"It would seem," another voice, deep and rich, rang out, "that the Shadow Lord has not learnt how to treat a Princess."

Link turned to the newcomer. Saria saw that the man was tall, his dark hair flowing, and as he walked, the Princess' handmaidens had their wide eyes fixed on him, their hands on their chests. As he passed each one, they let free a deep sigh. "And who," the Shadow Lord said, "might you be?"

The man flashed a smile that was sparkling in its intensity. Somewhere in the room a handmaiden fainted. "I am Franco DeZorres," he said. "I, too, shall be entering the tournament come dawn's dazzling light." He turned to Zelda, and the Princess blinked, startled by the sudden attention. "Such a vision of pure radiance. Tell me; are you one of the stars from the heavens given form? A portrait that our humble eyes do not deserve to even glance upon?" Zelda, though desperately trying to scowl, had the grace to blush. Franco gave a light laugh. "Ah...such modesty. You must remind me to regale you with my many tales. I'm sure you'll be interested in my battle against the Pitspawned Dragon, Xyria, and how I, with just my bare hands and the cloak on my back, obtained the Great Pearl of Dornaeoth amidst the most terrible of dangers." Another handmaiden duly fainted.

Zelda opened her mouth to speak, but Link stepped in between the two of them. "Ah," the Shadow Lord said. "But do you have the Mighty Sword of Eternal Polish and the rather fetching, and extremely hard to obtain, Splendid Green Hat." Link grinned. "I think not."

Franco stared at Link, his mouth agape, his jaws struggling to put into words the utter incomprehension that was now spread over his face.

Zelda spun away from the two of them, seething. "Please spare me your nonsense," she barked. "Both of you. I'd like to be taken to my chambers, please."

"Of course," Link said, clicking his fingers while the others began to disperse. "Tingle. Please show the Princess and her handmaidens to their quarters." He glanced at the floor. "And bring smelling-salts for these two." His eye caught Zelda nursing her wrist. "Had a little accident?"

"That's none of your concern," Zelda replied.

"On the contrary," the Shadow Lord countered. "Everyone in Castleton is my concern."

The Princess' face wrinkled with scorn. "I find that hard to believe."

Link ignored the comment. "Tingle, bring the Princess some healing herbs."

"Very good, sir," the advisor said, yet again.

"That's not necessary," Zelda said quickly. "Besides, wouldn't it be to your advantage to have me injured for tomorrow?"

The Shadow Lord looked straight at her now, his face softening suddenly. "I want you to lose, Princess. I don't want you to be hurt."

Saria stepped up to her friend, watching as the Shadow Lord and the Princess continued to stare at the other, the air between them tense. Some expression was fighting to form on Zelda's face, though it was hard to tell exactly what.

Then, with a curt nod, the Princess motioned to her handmaidens and stormed past them, leaving the two friends with only her parting words: "I'll see you in the morning, Link. And I want you to lose, too."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The Castleton Amphitheatre was awash with colour; curling ribbons of a myriad shade swooped through the air, cutting a path through the spinning rain of confetti and silk. Sharp sunlight, golden and twinkling, streaked through the flawlessly blue, cloudless sky as a wave of noise, eager and in merry spirits, rumbled from within the massive building.

It was, Zelda mused as she took in a deep breath, an exhilarating sight, more so because it was such a pleasant day, too. A tingle of anticipation touched the small of her back, her fingers drumming against her thigh as she waited for all her hopes to be realised. At the end of this day, Castleton would be hers – both the throne and the people. And finally, her cast-iron conviction that right would always win out would be shown to nothing more than the very simple truth.

She was led under an intricately carved marble archway, glistening as it caught the sun's rays, and entered into the arena itself to join the other participants in the Shadow Lord's grand tournament. Her eyes flicked over to the crowd, a throbbing mass of humanity that encircled the main area, and found the children quickly, some impoverished, but still smiling. Her heart sank at the sight of them, but at the same time, molten steel flowed through her veins, the belief that she would be the one to finally make a difference and bring happiness to these innocents was overpowering.

And yet…and yet her mind drifted back to Ruto's words, her friend's questions about whether the damage that the memory charms had wrought on Link could somehow be reversed. Her cheek twitched as she pondered her options…yes, she knew of one way, but she also knew that if that particular method failed then there would be no hope at all, and that was a prospect she couldn't bear to face.

A token of love, the scholars said, a token of love presented to the stricken one to remind him of bonds forged; sacred bonds that shouldn't be broken save in the direst of circumstances. Reflexively she reached into her belt and pulled out the ring. She let it lay in the palm of her hand, where it felt cold and strangely heavy. A token of love…her fingers curled around the ring, letting it dig into her skin, before she put it away. She couldn't let herself be distracted this day.

Zelda let her gaze sweep around the arena, impressed by the effort that had been put into this tournament. Somehow the entire central area had been converted into a tiny valley, sans grass but complete with waterfall and lake. Rafts bobbed up and down on the makeshift river, the mouth of which flowed from some sort of wooden structure which hissed and gurgled as it pumped water. Talon's handiwork, no doubt, though she couldn't quite fathom how he'd managed to construct all this in such a short time.

Shading her eyes from the sun, the Princess peered once more into the crowd, spotting her father high up in the stands in a silk covered viewing box. Also in the upper stands she saw Ruto and, in another section, Saria. Standing on a podium and looking distinctly nervous was one of Link's advisors – what was his name? Timble? Tingle! That was it.

A sigh whispered from the crowd, mixed in with one or two screams. Zelda turned to see Franco DeZorres, held aloft on a bier, enter the arena, waving and smiling inanely. The sight of such a self-absorbed creature sickened her to her stomach.

"Look at them." It was Link's voice, standing as he was with the other participants. Zelda cocked her head to one side, but made a point of not looking directly at him. "They'll hang on his every word, no matter how empty or ridiculously overblown it is. And because of what? A pretty face and a larger than life reputation – to think people would be impressed with something so low, to think people would take more pride in another person's life, to the point that they even become envious and begin to hate their own, rather than take satisfaction in their own achievements, no matter how small they may be."

Zelda was struck by the intelligence in Link's words, but still said nothing. The Shadow Lord, however, hadn't finished. "But may I say, Princess," he added, "that you're looking beautiful today."

Resisting the urge to shake her head, Zelda knew that her one time friend was now back to his usual state. One small nugget of wisdom wouldn't make up for all the evil the Shadow Lord had caused.

Franco stepped over to the others. "Ah ha," he said, his eyes settling on the Princess. "Would that such beauty wouldn't be tarnished by a tournament such as this. I beg you reconsider this foolish path that you have taken."

Zelda's lips twitched, so much did she want to snarl. She didn't have the forbearance for this. "I'll enjoy seeing you lose, sir," she said. "Then perhaps you'll realise that my choice was far from foolish."

The nobleman almost flinched from the words, and opened his mouth to let fly a retort when he was suddenly cut off. "Ooooh," a voice cried. "Isn't he handsome?"

Turning, the Princess caught sight of one of the other entrants into the tournament, a strange looking Hylian female with two heads. "What a dish!" one of the heads continued, her eyes wide.

"No," the other head retorted, this one wearing a mask of pure venom. "He's not. He's a fool. A foppish, useless fool."

Franco bristled, drawing himself up to his full height. "I say, Madam," he said. "There's no need for such hurtful barbs."

"Hear that?" the first head said. "You hurt him."

"Oh boo-hoo-hoo," the other replied, rolling her eyes. "Poor little baby can't bear the truth."

"I feel so sorry for him." The first head looked downcast. "Let's go over and comfort him."

"Don't you dare!" the other snapped. "I'm not going to fawn over some pathetic little sap like that. If you even move one inch, I swear I'll stay up all night and ..and…

"What? Sing? Hmmm?" The first head sniffed. "Doesn't scare me."

"I'll bite your ears!" The second head snapped her jaws just to show that she could do it, too.

The first head recoiled, a look of disgust on her face. "You are so mean. Why I ever ended up…"

Zelda let the voices trail from her mind as she turned away, shaking her head. She saw another one of those suspiciously blonde women that seemed to infest Castleton approach the party. A tiny parchment attached to the woman's tunic identified her as a representative of the 'Daily Hylian.' Here was another of Link's little projects. For some reason he felt that the people should be informed as to what went on in the country, and so had a team of people write reports that were then distributed by scroll. The problem was that they wrote every single one by hand, and so the scrolls were woefully behind the times when they eventually reached the people.

"Lord Heritey of the Versimi Republic," the woman said, stopping in front of a giant of a man, his spiked armour bristling with every breath that he took. "It's strange to see you take a break from your twenty-five year civil war just to take part in this tournament. Don't you think you have more pressing concerns?"

"There is no greater concern than the honour of my people!" Lord Heritey boomed. "Truly on this day, the world will see the superior prowess of the Versimi Republic!"

"A question," the woman said, her tone surprisingly pleasant. "Do you believe that you will win your civil war?"

"Of course!" the giant growled. "There is only one solution to rebels – destroy them! Destroy them utterly!"

"And," the woman went on, not missing a beat, "what happens when you do win?"

"There will be peace, of course. And my people will live according to the great edicts of our elders."

"And what about potential problems? How do you think that you, as a people inexperienced with peaceful times, will handle any disputes?"

Lord Heritey looked down at the woman, his eyes full of surprise. "Why, there is only one course available to people who cause problems and disputes," he said. "They will be destroyed! Destroyed utterly!"

A horn rang out, signifying the end of all conversation. The crowd roared in response. They knew what was coming. The tournament was about to begin.

2

A race. The first event was a horse race around the track encircling the artificial valley. Zelda sat in the saddle of her mare, holding the reins tightly. From somewhere far above, Tingle was explaining the rules. She shut out his words – she didn't care – and shut out the all the other noise, too. The crowd, their voices betraying the itch of impatience, became nothing more than a dull throb, the hissing of the water machine a faint sigh, and the rumble of the waterfall nothing more than the tapping of rain against glass.

The anticipation that she'd felt earlier was now churning in her stomach, and spreading through her body. She was tense, edgy. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Link calmly perched upon Epona, his horse. If nothing else, she had to beat the Shadow Lord. She swallowed, but no moisture came to her mouth. A fly buzzed close to her face and she waved it away, irritated, before throwing one last look at her father high in the stands. This was it.

Again she gripped the reins tightly, though they'd almost slipped through her sweaty palms.

"I will countdown from three," Tingle called. "Then the race begins. The three who finish first move onto the next stage. The others…are eliminated." The crowd rose to their feet, the noise increasing in kind.

"Three."

Zelda faced front, her eyes fixed dead ahead.

"Two."

She could hear the rush of her own blood thumping in her chest. She ignored it.

"One."

Neck bent, back arched, she dug her heels into the sides of her ride. For righteousness. For justice.

"Go!"

With a jolt the Princess was off, dust churning under galloping hooves and flecks of grit, riding the oncoming wind, flying into her face. The rhythmic thuds drummed into her mind and Zelda could feel her face contort into a rigid scowl, teeth clenched as she let pure determination fuel her movements.

The riders veered around the first corner, close enough to the crowd that they could hear the spectators jeers, cheers and taunts. Zelda snapped her head around, got a glimpse of Franco on her heels, then turned back instantly. To her left she could see Epona's snorting head as Link inched into the lead. A spike of icy fear stroked Zelda's heart, threatening to pierce through and let despair run free. With a cry, she kicked her heels, crushing the thought like a snuffed flame. She would not give in this quickly.

A voice roared from behind her. "Desttrrroooooooy alllll eneeemiiieeees!!" Lord Heritey, then, more words than deeds it seemed. Another voice: "Can't we go any faster?" followed by "I'm trying! If you'd stop leering after the fop and concentrate on the race, we might do better!" Zelda allowed herself a bitter smile. Only three would move onto the next stage, but qualifying wasn't what was important. She had to prove to her father that she was far better than Link. He was clearly the favourite, while she was the underdog. That had to change.

Another corner approached and Zelda, the sun on her back, pulled to the left, hoping to cut across the Shadow Lord's path. Clods of baked mud flew into the air, scratching her skin, but the Princess ignored it all. She saw her mare draw level with Epona, flexed her knuckles as she prepared to pull ahead. Closer now; she could hear the panting of the two horses, the rumble of their hooves like thunder, the sand-stained ground beneath a blur. The crowd gasped, as though not believing what was happening, and Zelda felt a prick of satisfaction strengthen her spirits.

Something struck her back suddenly, winding her. The reins slipped from her hands, and her ride careened dangerously, almost toppling over. With a yell, she dug her heels in once more, grasping desperately for the reins. Her fingers clutched leather, slipped, then grabbed a firm hold, and she instantly pulled herself aright. A flicker of motion slipped past her and she saw Franco, all smiles as per usual, storm ahead.

Snarling, Zelda gave chase, keeping enough distance between her and the two riders following her, but still somewhat behind Link and Franco. What had hit her, anyway? Daring to look up from the track, she gazed around her, scanning the area – and saw it. Saria. _Saria!_ The little Kokiri had a blowpipe to her lips. Anger flooded Zelda's heart. So, that's how Link was going to play this. Typical. He had no sense of honour for him to do otherwise, of course. What was worse, though, that in the eyes of the crowd – and her father- she'd just stumbled foolishly like a child for no apparent reason.

No. _No._ Zelda kicked once more, lowering her head as she drove her mare on. She took another corner, smoothly this time, and the final stretch of track, awash with sunlight, came into view. Onwards she pushed, her shoulders aching from the effort. Link and Franco were in her line of sight, and she was gaining on them. Like felled trees rising from the dead, the crowd rose to their feet, their cries at fever-pitch.

Her gasping ride reached Franco's horse, going level with its hind legs, then moving past the saddle, then finally pulling clear. Zelda threw the nobleman a malicious grin, taking satisfaction from his shocked expression. Link was just an inch ahead now, but the finish line was drawing nearer and nearer and…

"_Rah!_" she yelled, squeezing the last bit of strength into her efforts. The world spun in her vision, sweat pouring down her face. Her horse veered slightly to the right, its snout now at the level of Epona's neck. All Zelda needed was a little…extra…push…and…

…the crowd erupted as Link crossed the finish line. Zelda came in second, Franco third. To her consternation, she saw Saria conducting the crowd, leading them with chants in praise of the Shadow Lord.

Link, wiping his brow with a cloth, looked over at the Princess. "Good try, love."

Zelda pulled her horse away. "Not good enough."

3

Silence hung in the air like a tangible thing, the whole world, it seemed, holding its collective breath. The sloshing of the river was a distant murmur as Zelda focused on the target hanging from a boulder on the far side of the riverbank. Archery was the second task, and only two would proceed to the final round.

The steel tip of the arrow glistened in the sunlight, sparkling like a star, and the bowstring bit into her fingers as her trembling arms, heavy and aching, tried to keep the bow steady. Her narrowed eyes funnelled in on the painted red target, then she moved a hair to the right…and released. The arrow spun through the air with a sigh, all eyes following its progress, then crunched into the target in a shower of splinters, its shaft still shuddering.

Zelda, leaning forward on her toes, peered ahead. Sour disappointment bit her as she saw that, though close, her shot had not struck as far home as Link and Franco's had. She was glad, then, that this was just her second practise run.

"Prepare yourselves," Tingle called. "Practise time is over…the contest is about to begin!"

Courtiers hurried over to the target, picking up loose arrows and replacing the wooden target board with another, fresh and unsullied. Zelda inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as she tried to calm herself. She had to win this one. She _had_ to.

"The Shadow Lord will go first!"

A ripple of noise greeted this announcement, though the crowd were strangely muted. The Princess saw that Link had noticed this, too, and was scowling accordingly. A smile came to her lips, and though she had made no conscious decision to do so, her hand fell to her belt where the ring lay safe.

Link took position, the muscles in his arms rippling, and lifted the bow. Once more silence fell on the proceedings like a thick blanket. Lips pursed, eyes as slits, Link pulled the bowstring tight. He blew, a tuft of his blond hair lifting from his eyes. His boots sank into the ground, his body statuesque…and then the bow sang as the arrow was let free. It hit the target board with a _thock_, chipping the top left corner of the painted bullseye. Polite applause greeted the shot, and Link scowled some more.

"Franco DeZorres will go next!"

This time the crowd responded, their cheers bubbling with enthusiasm. Some people gave individual shouts of encouragement, and one or two of the younger women cried out proposals of marriage before they were shushed by their chaperones.

Franco, grinning from ear to ear, raised his hands to silence the spectators. "Thank you, thank you," he cooed. "No doubt you have all paid good coin just to feast your eyes on my magnificent self." Some of the women shrieked. "I will not disappoint you, I assure you. And, may I add, that I will be free this evening to let everyone see my trophy – though not before letting everyone see my good self first, of course."

Zelda glanced at Link. Link glanced at Zelda. An understanding passed between them, then, something that a casual observer would not have noticed.

The nobleman took his position, his movements smooth, unhurried and relaxed. In one liquid motion, he drew the bow level, attached the arrow, took aim for a fraction of a second, and released. Not even bothering to check his progress, Franco strutted away, his lip curled in a satisfied smile. Zelda saw that the arrow had hit just a hair left of the bullseye –not as close as Link's, but enough for the nobleman to clearly believe that Zelda wou;dn't be able to match him.

The crowd, clapping in rhythm, began chanting the nobleman's name. Franco waved in response, his back straight, his neck stiff. "This evening!" he promised. "Drinks – and food – will be on me! And, no doubt, you'll be more than entertained with tales of my exploits. And, who knows? Perhaps one lucky maiden may find this to be the evening of her life." He winked, and the sounds of bodies collapsing to the floor rang out in the air.

"And last, but not least…Princess Zelda!"

"It would seem," Link's said as he stepped behind her to let her pass, "that someone is in need of a lesson in humility." He backed off as Zelda stood in position. "Wouldn't you say?"

"I would say," the Princess whispered, "that I'll let my actions answer for me." She glanced at him, saw his smile, and responded in kind.

One foot placed in front of the other, Zelda readied her bow. She dug one heel into the ground, raising the tip of the arrow and lining it up with the target. Her fingers danced on the bowstring, then she pulled it tight, the wire almost touching her lips. Zelda closed one eye, and cocked her head to the side, once more letting all background noise fade from her mind. She shifted to the left and swallowed. If she lost this, she wouldn't make it to the final and…

The red bullseye loomed in her mind's eye. The world drained of colour, the circular target the only thing that mattered at that moment in time. She could see the cracks in the paint, the smudges on the rim, the other two arrows firmly lodged. She moved a fraction to the left once more…and released, the recoil making her arms jerk.

The arrow burned through the air, twirling, a blur of motion. Wood cracked against wood…and then all was still.

The courtiers rushed to the scene. Zelda peered forward. Franco and Link, their hands over their brows, strained to see. The crowd waited, hushed. One of the courtiers ran to where Tingle waited, and whispered something in his ear. The advisor stood up straight, motioned for silence, then spoke. "The winner of the second round." He glanced at the Shadow Lord. "Princess Zelda!"

Half the crowd gasped, while the other half roared their approval. Zelda's shoulders sagged in relief as she heard her father bellow, "Bravo! Bravo! Splendid! That's my daughter, you know."

Looking up, she saw Franco DeZorres, standing completely still, his eyes stretched with shock, his expression crestfallen. The Princess couldn't help but grin.

4

They stood at the top of the waterfall, watching as the water churned and bubbled before spilling into the basin below, while courtiers tied a rope from one rocky peak to another, so that it hung directly above the tip of the fall. Dangling from this rope were three metal plates, flicked to and fro by the breeze, and each painted green.

"The final event," Tingle called, "is for the two finalists to hit the spinning plates with their hookshots, so that all three turn completely around. The winner will be the one who hits the final plate."

Zelda accepted the hookshot presented to her, and looked over at the rope. Was that all? This was almost too easy.

"However," Tingle went on, adding a dramatic pause. "Both contestants will be riding the rafts anchored in the river at the moment." The Princess saw that 'raft' was an over-exaggeration – more like a flat row of logs held together with strings. "And both….will be duelling the other."

Zelda almost flinched as one of the courtiers bowed, pushing a sword, its edge blunt, into her hands. "A duel?" she gasped, looking over at Link. The Shadow Lord was already gingerly setting afoot on of the rafts. "Are you mad?"

He glanced back at her, grinning. "Just a little bit of sport, love," he said. "Unless you want to forfeit, of course?"

Pushing down her anxiety, the Princess hung the hookshot from her belt and marched over to another raft. "Never." She stepped onto it and her stomach lurched as it dipped wildly into the water. Arms outstretched, she steadied herself, though her heart was hammering in her chest. She had to fight Link and hit the targets – while riding this? Again, she buried her irritation. She wasn't going to show any fear.

"On my signal," Tingle called as the spectators craned forward.

Zelda brought the blade to bear, and turned to face her opponent. The logs bobbed under her boots, water staining the wood dark. Courtiers stood on the bank, axes in their hands, poised to cut the ropes that held the rafts steady.

"Go!"

With a swoosh and a snap, the axes cut through the cords and the rafts lurched wildly into the river, floating towards the waterfall as the crowd egged them on.

Holding her legs steady, the Princess waited until Link's raft drifted in front of hers. Metal sliced air as the Shadow Lord swung with his first strike. Instinctively, Zelda threw her sword arm up, and both blades clanged into the other. Link spun away, the motion making the two rafts tilt, spray kissing their backs. Slashing the air, the edge of Link's blade flashed in the Princess' eyes, a fraction of a heartbeat before she jerked backwards to safety.

"Come, come, Princess," the Shadow Lord taunted through clenched teeth. "You can do better than that."

Zelda felt liquid hot rage run in her veins. Now…now she'd be able to make him pay for all the evil he'd caused. "That I can." The two swords swung towards each other, steel cracking, locking, then slithering apart. Crack, lock, disengage – the two opponents danced as they each sought an opening; spinning, dodging, weaving.

"Why?" Zelda spat as her blade slammed into Link's. "Why do you make people suffer?" Again her sword hit home, making the Shadow Lord stumble. The sweet taste of near victory flooded her mouth. "Why did you hurt the Gorons?" A twirl, another strike. "Why didn't you let the slaves go?"

She swung too far and Link ducked, then fell back flat onto the raft. To her shock, he then slid across the gap between the two rafts, sprang up and shoved her to the wooden floor. "I don't have to explain myself to you, sunshine," he said, breathing heavily. His form blotted out the sun, letting a cool breeze wash over the Princess. "Though I have tried, not that you ever listen."

Zelda kipped up, crouched, then somersaulted over Link's head, landing on the other raft. Grinning at his expression of surprise, she pulled free the hookshot and fired. The spike whirred then struck the first plate with a _ting_, making it spin and turning its face from green to red.

She turned back to the Shadow Lord. "You forget," she said, and she couldn't stop the gloating in her tone. "I was trained by a Sheikah to be a Sheikah."

Link deflected her next strike, tossed his sword to his other hand and drove the blade forward, pushing Zelda back. "Oh yes. That's a strange thing, too, isn't it? Dressing up as a man?" The swords locked again, crossed in the air over the gap between the two rafts, and Link leaned closer. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

Zelda spat, then kicked, the two blades unlocking. She arced the blade towards Link's head and it struck his hat, leaving it awry.

"Halt!" Link called, holding up a hand.

Zelda paused, puzzled. The crowd waited, questioning. Flies buzzed in the air. The waterfall rumbled.

The Shadow Lord reached up and set his hat straight. He nodded at Zelda. "Carry on."

"Pathetic!" Zelda cried, cutting the air once more. She felt the foam of the waterfall rain down on her back and, glancing over her shoulder, saw the edge creep closer and closer. Her head snapped up, seeing the other plates. She couldn't put this off any longer.

The Princess spun her blade over her head, then brought it hurtling down. "It's over for you, Link," she said, her voice soft and strangely sad. "I hope you get all the help that you need." He blocked the blow, as she'd expected, but left himself exposed. With a sharp shove, she ploughed her shoulder into his chest, bringing him to his knees. In one swift movement, she spun on her heels, brought her hookshot up, fired, and struck the second plate.

Just one more to go, she mused as a salty taste swirled around her mouth. She'd done everything right in this little encounter. Her father would have to be impressed. And Link…Link was about to suffer his greatest humiliation yet. She felt her heart sing with delight.

"That's an interesting trick," the Shadow Lord said as he stumbled back onto his feet.

"What do you mean?" Zelda asked warily, waving her sword. The waterfall throbbed behind them, like the very itself was being shred in two.

Link made a motion with his hand. "That jumping over my head thing. You know, spinning in the air."

"Sheikah training, as I told you." Her eyes darted, looking for a weak spot. If she could just distract him a moment longer…

"One time thing, I think," he replied. "Nothing to do with training."

"Is that so?" Zelda bent at the knee again. This would be it. If her manoeuvre had impressed Link, then it would have impressed her father, too. Another attempt would be just the spice she needed…she could strike Link down from behind as well.

"That is so." He grinned.

"Then permit me to prove you wrong." She leapt into the air once more, sunlight dazzling her eyes, and rolled over Link's head, landing daintily onto his raft. She spun around –

-and saw that the Shadow Lord, hookshot at the ready, had stepped over to the other raft. His grin widened. "Thanks a lot, love." The spike exploded out from his hookshot, ploughed into the final plate and, with the crowd screaming with joy, turned it red, ending the contest.

Zelda felt the colour drain from her face, her mouth agape. Her hookshot fell from her limp fingers, clattering to the wood below, and she turned to the Shadow Lord, her jaws working, but no words coming free.

"Heh. Heh. Heh," said Link.

Hookshot spikes drove into the rafts and the courtiers pulled them both back to safety. Zelda stepped onto dry land, feeling completely stunned. Outsmarted. She'd been outsmarted in front of her father and the whole of Castleton. This was a total and utter defeat.

People rushed past her, all hoping to embrace the Shadow Lord and congratulate him on his victory. Zelda took no notice. She walked away slowly, the world around her a distant blur. No. She couldn't lose. She couldn't! All the people that would suffer. There had to be something…something…

_A token of love._

"Link," she called, turning around and marching straight up to him. All around them, the crowd fell into a hush once more. "Congratulations on your victory." Her hand went to her belt, flipped open a pouch. "But what do you think," she reached in, the cold metal comforting, "of this?"

The Shadow Lord flinched as the Princess brought the ring, flashing gold in the light, to bear. They stared at each other, the air between them thick. The crowd waited expectantly. Link leaned forward, his eyes wide. "What's that, then?" he said. "Ring of power, is it? To rule them all, and all that malarkey?" He motioned with his hand. "I've always fancied one of those. Hand it over, love."

"What," Zelda seethed, "are you _talking _about?"

"Enough!" The King's voice cracked the air. All eyes turned towards him. "No more bickering. Link is our well-deserved victor – now is the time for feasting and celebration. This…is over."

The spectators cheered, standing and waving. Zelda stalked away, glowering, ignoring the people that bumped into her in their haste to get to the Shadow Lord. She caught a glimpse of one of Link's guards and smiled. No, she mused. Despite what her father said, this was not over yet.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"And then, there was much rejoicing."

The Shadow Lord sat back in his chair, his feet on the long table in front of him. All around him there hung the sounds of merriment- singing, dancing, the folk of Castleton grinning with their rose cheeked faces and, of course, plenty of feasting. Link frowned. He knew he'd forgotten something. Sitting up straight, he blinked, trying to stop his head spinning from the mix of blurred candlelight and the weighty scent of incense, its smoke curling through the Great Hall making everything look distinctly hazy.

On his left sat Saria, a distinctly bemused look on her face, and on his right sat his scribe, his fingers stained blue with ink. The Great Hall had been decked out with silk and gold, its walls polished and gleaming, its chandeliers twinkling slowly as they spun. Sometimes a noble would walk up to the table and offer Link hearty congratulations. He took it in stride. So long as they were happy this night. Happy and well-fed.

Link motioned to the scribe. "And feasting," he said. "Remember to add the feasting."

The scribe looked up, his eyes watery, then furiously began scribbling on the scroll on his lap, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Actually," Link said after a moment. "Maybe it should go like this: 'Verily, there was much rejoicing and feasting.'" He pondered a moment longer. "Yes, that's it. Write this: 'Verily, there was much rejoicing and feasting,' mate."

"Verily," the scribe repeated, his quill working feverishly, "there was much rejoicing…and…feasting…mate."

The Shadow Lord blinked. "No," he said. "Lose the mate, mate."

The scribe looked up, confused. "Lose the mate?"

"That's right." Link felt a headache coming on. "Don't write 'mate'. Just write, 'verily, there was much rejoicing and feasting,' mate."

The scribe sat back in his chair. He opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head. Squinting through the curtain of smoke, he suddenly looked like he wished he were somewhere else. Then, once more, he opened his mouth to speak and, once again, his jaws snapped shut.

"Oh, just give me that!" Saria snapped, snatching both quill and scroll. After a moment of heated writing, she concluded in exasperation, "There!"

"Thanks, love," the Shadow Lord said, sniffing. He took a swig from his potion bottle, then closed his eyes as the nectar rushed through his body. Letting out a deep breath, Link sagged in his chest, the sounds and smells washing over him like a balm. "Thas jusht lubbly." He burped for added effect.

Saria threw him a look filled to the brim with scorn. "You can't get intoxicated on Red Potion."

Link sighed. "I know. I'm just getting into the mood." He grinned as he watched the people dance and eat in front of him. Glazed meats, roasted vegetables stewing in steaming gravy and sweetmeats all sprinkled with sugar sat on the tables ahead. In one corner, a group of young Hylians thumped on large drums, the skins stretching with every thump. Laughter and the hum of conversation floated in the air, and the Shadow Lord could almost taste the goodwill in the atmosphere. The denizens of Castleton smiled, their eyes twinkling with genuine joy. Link let himself ride on a wave of pure contentment. He'd done it. He'd won them over completely.

Glancing at his Kokiri friend, he shifted in his seat, then asked, "Did you see the look on her face?" He mimed the expression just to hammer his point home. "Just beautiful, love. Won't be seeing much of her again."

Saria looked pensive. "Do you think so?" she asked. "Don't you think she may try something else? A wounded animal is always more dangerous, after all."

Link had to raise his voice to make himself be heard over the din. "Don't worry, love. If she does try something – why, thank you, Lord Stevmos." Deftly, Link shook the nobleman's hand, then turned smoothly back to his friend. It was a practised movement, designed not to cause any offence. For now, the Shadow Lord was content to deal well with everyone. Well, mostly everyone. "If she does try something, I've got it well in hand."

Eyes narrowed, the Kokiri asked. "What do you mean?"

"I have a plan."

"Not the water torture, Link."

He scowled. "I have another plan."

Saria smiled, shaking her head. "I think you've done enough," she said. Her mind drifted back a few hours to the end of the tournament. "By the way," she added. "What was it, exactly, that Zelda was showing you after you'd won?"

Link let his tongue roll around the inside of his cheek as he pondered on his words. When he spoke his voice was soft and Saria had to lean in and strain to hear him. "Nothing of any real consequence let me assure you." After a pause, he asked, "Where's the King, do you know?"

"I think he retired to bed early," she replied. Glasses chinked against each other, and laughter and cheering followed suit. "Too much excitement for him. He'll be leaving in the morning."

"Well," the Shadow Lord said, bringing his arms around so that his hands could rest on the back of his head. "Quest accomplished, wouldn't you say?"

Saria looked away, but couldn't keep the grin from her face. "Certainly." She picked up an apple from the table, threw it, caught it, then bit into it. "The other day we were attacked by that Stalfos, do you remember?"

Link raised his eyebrows. "How could I forget, love?" he said. "Stupid thing seemed to wonder why he'd ever been born. I tell you, if Ganondorf ever returns, all we have to do is set that skeleton on him and he'll talk the Gerudo into surrender." He glanced at his friend. "Ganondorf'll be in tears, begging us to seal him back into the Sacred Realm."

Pushing herself out of her makeshift chair, the Saria climbed up onto the table and perched herself on the edge. "But that Stalfos is still out there somewhere."

Link pressed his palms together and brought his fingertips to his lips. "Hmm," he said. "That's a point, love. Suppose as soon as the King's gone I'll have to take a wander around the city. See if we can't put the poor boy out of his misery once and for all." Noticing the sharp glance Saria was giving him, he added, "Not the water torture, love, don't worry."

"Good," she replied. "And what about Zelda? Do we know where she is?"

The Shadow Lord let out a breath through pursed lips. "Don't know. Don't care."

"She should be going home with her father," Saria said. "She certainly won't be wanting to stay around here."

"Probably," Link said, his voice laced with boredom. "The sooner the better. Can't wait to be rid of her."

Saria cocked a knowing eyebrow. "Oh really?"

Link gave her a mock-smile. "Yes, really."

"Shadow Lord!" All heads turned to the owner of the voice, a young man, his expression troubled and brooding. The laughter stopped, the conversations trailed into silence, and the drums were cut off. Handsome the young man was, and he commanded the attention of everyone in the room. Link had noticed him earlier, swallowed by a gaggle of well-wishers and young maidens, but didn't know who exactly he was. The young man was dressed in a fine tunic, a golden sword hanging from his waist, and a thick, blue cloak trailing behind him.

"Who's that?" Link whispered from the corner of his mouth.

"Dayid Holsman," Saria whispered back. "He considers himself the true heir of the Versimi Republic."

"Never heard of him."

Link stood, his arms outstretched in an invitation for an embrace, and grinned. "Dayid!" he bellowed. "I was just thinking about you. Always wanted to talk to you, it'll be a pleasure I'm sure." He let his gaze rest on the youngster for a moment. "How can Castleton be of assistance to you?"

"I seek your advice," Dayid said. His eyes were filled with sadness, his shoulders sagging as though he carried a terrible burden. Stepping into the centre of the Hall, he waited until people around had parted, making sure that he was now the focus of attention. "It is a matter that you are well familiar with." He paused to sweep his gaze around the room. "It is a matter of…destiny." As if on cue, lightning flashed from outside.

"Well," said Link, feeling thoroughly confused. "Why don't you share your tale with us, dear sir?"

Dayid took in a deep breath and clasped the hilt of his sword. "I will," he said, his chin trembling. "But be warned, it is a tale of despair and of the most deepest of horrors."

"Oh, jolly good," said the Shadow Lord. "My favourite."

"And it all concerns," Dayid continued, "my destiny."

Lightning flashed again. Somewhere someone dropped a plate. Someone else gasped. Link leaned in towards his Kokiri friend. "How's he doing that?" Saria shrugged in response.

Dayid stood straight, his face a mask of misery and pain. Idly, Link wondered if he were related to the Stalfos. They'd make a well-matched pair that was for certain. They'd certainly be the life of any festivity.

"You are aware of Lord Heritey, of course," the young man went on. "He attended the tournament today. He claims to be the true ruler of the Republic – he lies!" Some people flinched. "It is my Royal Blood that is the true heir to the Throne, my Royal ancestors who were the true rulers, back when my peaceful and beautiful land was known simply as the Versimi Kingdom. It is Heritey and his ilk that have kept my poor family under his boot, torturing them mercilessly, while they never once fought back."

Link frowned. He held up a hand. "Excuse me."

"For decades has my family watched Heritey rape the land, crush its people, strip its resources."

The Shadow Lord waved. "Excuse me, mate."

"Now, it has been decreed that the time is right for us to-"

"_Excuse me."_

Dayid blinked, and then let his gaze come to rest on the Shadow Lord. "You have a question?"

Link smiled. "If it's the case that you're family knew they should be in charge, and knew that this Heritey bloke was sleeping around with the land-"

"Raping the land."

"Yes, exactly," the Shadow Lord continued. "How is it they did nothing about it, hmm?"

Dayid looked around at the revellers, his eyes impassive. "A fair question," he said. He caught the eye of a maiden, who had the grace to look away shyly. He smiled at that, though inwardly Link felt a touch annoyed. Couldn't the boy pay attention?

"This," Dayid said, once he'd regained his composure, "is all a matter of…destiny." Lightning made another appearance that night. "For, you see, ancient prophecies written with the blood of my people told of a boy who would grow up to reclaim the land of Versimi, by killing the usurper with this golden sword!" He twirled, letting everyone get a good look at the said item. His voice dropped to an almost-whisper. "My family kept this sword with them in their years of darkness, waiting for the-"

"Excuse me."

A vein in Dayid's forehead throbbed. Through clenched teeth, he said, "Yes, Shadow Lord, you have another question?"

"I was just wondering, like," said Link. "This sword is the only thing that can kill Heritey, right?"

Dayid gave a small nod. "That is correct."

"And you're family have been keeping it?"

"That is correct, too."

Link sniffed. "Then why didn't they just use it, mate?"

The youngster opened his mouth, his jaws quivering, before he took in a deep breath and said, "Only one could complete this task. This burden fell upon me. This terrible, heavy, awful burden." He brought his hand up to touch his forehead as he lapsed into silence. Someone stepped forward to pat him on the shoulder, but he waved them away. "However, to protect me, my family gave me up as a child, letting me grow up on a farm in the care of a kindly family. It is only now that I've come to be aware of my dest-"

"Hold on, mate." Link scratched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, opened them, and then placed his palms flat on the table before him. "You grew up as a farmboy?"

Dayid's whole body was trembling with rage now. "Yes," he spat.

"Let's get all this clear," the Shadow Lord said. "You're just an ordinary farmboy, living your life, completely unaware of what's happening in the world, then one day – POOF! You find this destiny of yours, go get your shiny little copper sword –"

"Gold."

Link conceded the point with a nod. "Yes, right. Get your gold sword, then off you go to kill Lord Heritey who's making babies with the land-"

"Raping the land."

Link closed his eyes for a moment. Why were young people so rude nowadays? "That, too. So, off you go, fight the good fight, save the day, get the girl – if there is one, I assume there is, as it's usually part and parcel of the whole prophecy; I mean if there isn't, you should go try and find yourself another prophecy, maybe one with a-"

Curling his hands into fists, the young would-be-hero shook as he asked, "Your point, sir?"

"I do apologise," Link replied. "I get a little carried away sometimes. So – you fight, you win, you're a hero, you get married and, no doubt, you win yourself a nice little kingdom in the bargain."

Dayid shifted uncomfortably on his feet, but still managed to heroically wear an expression that revealed the deepest of inner turmoil. "That is one way of looking at it, sir, yes."

"So," Link continued with a smile, "why are you so bleedin miserable for, then? Especially since it's all prophesised, innit? Nothing to worry about, mate." His eyes scanned the table in front of him and, when he'd found what he'd wanted, Link picked up a dish. "Cake?"

"Well," Dayid said, looking slightly flustered. "It's the burden of my dest-"

"Also," the Shadow Lord said, cutting him off. "It seems to me that this whole 'let you live on a farm' thing is a bit silly, really." Lifting his hat, Link ran a hand through his hair, the golden strands trickling through his fingers. "Wouldn't it have been better if your royal family had let you stay with them, then trained you to fight and got you prepared for you destiny?" The Shadow Lord jumped as lightning winked outside. He scowled, then quickly regained his composure. "Seems a lot more sensible than having you get attached to a family who isn't yours, learning only how to milk a cow – practical as it is, in this day and age – then thrusting you into a role you're clearly not prepared for, and if it wasn't prophesised – though that could be a dubious claim, if the people that wrote that prophecy are as intelligent as your real folks – you'd probably be hung, drawn and quartered before you even got to Lord Heritey's outhouse." Link flashed him a grin. A few titters rang out from the crowd. "What is it you wanted to speak to me about again?"

Stepping away, Dayid then sat down slowly, looking suitably stunned. "It's…not…important."

The Shadow Lord snapped his fingers. "Tingle!"

The advisor appeared, as though from nowhere. "Yes, Milord."

"Red Potion for the young man there," he said, and then added under his breath, "He's going to need it."

"Very good, sir."

"Oh, and Tingle?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Get him an imitation Green Hat, will you, mate?" Link winked. "It'll look good on him. Besides, can't be a hero without one, eh?"

Tingle bowed his head slightly, then moved to leave. "Very good, sir."

Sitting down once again, the Shadow Lord cocked his head to one side, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Saria noticed the gesture. "What is it?" she asked.

"Do you hear something?"

The Kokiri raised her head and blinked. She could hear nothing save the usual sounds of a celebration slowly swinging back to life. Then…she got it. Muffled screams and shouts were dimly audible behind the merrymaking. Her panicked eyes found Link's, but before either could speak, something slammed against the main doors of the Great Hall. Once more, silence fell.

The Shadow Lord stood. "Guards! Guards!" He glanced around, saw nothing. "Where are those damn guards?"

The doors collapsed in on themselves with a horrific rumble, scattering the revellers as they ran screaming.

"Where are your guards, Link?" a voice called from within the rising cloud of smoke. "Haven't you noticed? For the past week or so, your guards haven't been where they've supposed to have been." Zelda stepped into the room, a grin on her face, a glint in her eye, Ruto trotting at her heels. "That's because," she continued, "with a little influence and a lot of money, they're now loyal to me." She beckoned with her hand and a troop of armed men – the Shadow Lord recognised them as those who were supposed to be under his employ – marched in behind her.

Link kept his posture straight and his gaze steady. "What is this?"

"This," said Zelda as she folded her arms across her chest, "is called a revolution." She flashed him another grin, this time dripping with the sense of victory. "I'm taking over…'mate.'"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Princess Zelda was bored.

It took an effort for her not to fidget as she sat on the Shadow Lord's oversized throne, listening to two petitioners air out their grievances. Legs crossed, her arms resting on the cool, silver-plated armrests, she managed to keep a smile planted firmly on her face – it stopped her from having to yawn – and nodded as the two townsmen droned on and on and on. It was something about lost sheep. Irritation bit under her skin, making her restless. How could she undo all the wrongs Link had inflicted if the very people she'd sworn to help kept her bogged down with petty trivialities?

"So, you see," the bigger man growled, his skin along with tattered tunic stained with soil, marking him out to be farmer on one of the fields just outside Castleton. Zelda had a vague recollection that the man's name was Toren. It was, she knew, always polite to remember names. "I've had to endure this fool poking and prodding into my land for the past six months," Toren went on. "Always he'd take this, borrow that, always promising to give it all back to me 'next week.'" He snarled as he cast a disgusted look at his opponent. "Well, 'next week' never would come."

The other man was thin and wiry, his eyes darting this way and that. Sweat glistened on his forehead as he wrung his hands with nervous energy. Kayvic was his name. "That doesn't mean," he said, his voice quiet, "that you had the right to steal one of my sheep! The fattest ewe at that!"

The big man chewed on the inside of his cheek, his already small eyes shrinking to narrow, burning holes. "Oh, and you had the right to take my property, did you?" His chest was heaving now, his breathing rapid. "Pathetic worm. I should break you right here. Be thankful that I've got more honour than that and have dragged you in front of the Sha-" He cleared his throat, then glanced at Zelda. "Beg pardon. In front of the Princess." A smile practically oozed over his face. "Now we'll see some justice."

Zelda let out a soft and – she hoped – silent sigh. She threw a surreptitious glance over at the far end of the Throne room. A line of people waited there, each bursting with complaints and the hurts of wrongs unpunished. The Princess wanted to do away with the whole silly process, wanted to at least delegate it all to one of the nobles in the city, but Ruto had managed to convince her that this was the way Link had done it – presiding over everything in person – and it would be too much of a jolt for the people if she changed that so quickly. After all, the Zora had reminded her, she wanted to win the people's hearts.

Her eyes fell upon the two petitioners. She knew how to let her voice don the robes of royalty and so she dipped her words in the clipped inflection of regal transcendence. "This is my decree," she said. "You," she pointed at the bigger man, "will return what you have stolen from your neighbour." She knew a moment of sympathy, knew how it felt to have something she deserved given to someone else. Sheep, the city of Castleton - it didn't matter. She knew injustice and she knew she had to set things right. And so, she added, "in fact, you'll give him back both his ewe and a percentage of your crops, too. To be decided by my advisors."

Toren's jaw dropped open. "What about all the times he took from me? What about justice?" Veins in his forehead throbbed as he struggled to keep control.

"I've suffered his nonsense for six months and no-one – not one – came to my aid. Yes, I took things into my own hands, but let's look at the source of the problem and cut it off there."

Zelda's face ached as she struggled to cling hold to her composure. She wasn't used to having her decisions questioned. "Well, if you'd learned to share in the first place, none of this would have befallen you!"

Hands curling into trembling fists, the big man gasped, "Learn…to…share?" He took in a deep breath. "Are you m-" He stopped himself in time, blinking. "I am not a child, Princess. This is my livelihood. He has his own, and he doesn't take anything from me except out of greed. Pure greed." He threw the other man a look of disgust. "It's his own fault – his own idleness, I should say – that stops him from gaining as big a profit as myself."

The Princess was breathing hard now. What was wrong with these people? She'd said what she had to say; now it was up to them to implement it. Didn't they understand? Clearly she also had to take a closer look at Castleton's education policy, too. "You should help him, anyway," she said. "It's the…it's the nice thing to do. If he's feeling tired, then you should take over the running of his farm as well as yours." Toren looked as though someone had just punched him in the gut. Zelda ignored his expression and stood up. "In fact, that's all I have to say on this matter." She motioned at her guards. "Take them away, both of them."

"Thank you, Princess," Kafic said, his eyes twinkling. "Most kind. So very kind."

The guards surrounded the bigger man, grasping him by his arms. Toren shoved them off, threw one last look of venom at the Princess, then stalked off.

Zelda sank back into the chair, closing her eyes as she massaged her head with the tips of her fingers. "Whose next?" she mumbled.

"_Princess Zelda!_"

Her eyes flew open at the sound of the bellow. Gripping the sides of her chair in fear, the Princess saw a large Goron push his way through the line, then march into the Throne room. A smaller man darted around, trying frantically to calm him down. Zelda shrank back from the fury bubbling on the Goron's face and, glancing at her guards, took comfort in the fact that she was well protected.

"Is there a problem?" she asked, hoping that her voice was carrying higher than a panicked squeak.

"There is!" the Goron boomed. "I, Jerunia, have a complaint to make." She would have smiled if not for the current circumstances. The Goron always did have a flair for the dramatic.

"Don't listen to him, Princess," the smaller man said, his face looking haggard. Zelda recognised him as the nobleman Mahfouz. He glanced up at the Goron, whispering, "Now now, Jerunia. Don't do or say anything rash."

"Rash!" the Goron cried. "It is _she_ who is being rash! It is she who has inflicted a great wrong on Castleton, this foul witch of a woman."

Mahfouz, his hands trembling, looked up at the Princess and smiled weakly. ""Don't listen to the boy," he said, his face taking on a knowing look. "He was dropped on his head one too many times as a child." He leaned forward, glanced left and right, then gave a sickly whisper. "Went a little a mad."

Jarunia snarled. "It is she who deserves much worse than that. She should be flayed, then flung into the fiery pits of Death Mountain itself!"

"Dropped on his head," Mahfouz said, his voice taking on a desperate twinge. "_Repeatedly._"

"Why do you not speak?" the Goron's voice shook. "Is it because you know your guilt? Then, come…let me cleanse you with punishment, here in this very chamber and at this very moment."

"See?" the smaller man said, cocking his trembling head at Jarunia. "Absolutely _insane_."

Zelda tried to keep her gaze cool and level. "And what is your complaint?" she said softly. "Perhaps we can come to some sort of an understanding."

"You…have usurped the true ruler of Castleton," the Goron spat. "You have imprisoned our big brother, our Shadow Lord."

Cocking an eyebrow, Zelda said, "I thought you of all people would be happy to see him go."

Jarunia bared his teeth, a deep growl rumbling from the back of his throat. "You do not know what you have done. Doomed as all, you have. Doomed us."

For a moment Zelda froze, the sheer conviction in the Goron's words pushing a spike of fear into her heart. Then, as though batting away a passing insect, she stamped down on the thought and let her irritation run free. The Princess felt a wave of fatigue drench her body. She'd had enough of this. She'd had enough of being questioned. "Guards, take them away," she said, thrilling in the power she felt as her men snapped to attention.

Curses flew from the Goron's mouth as he was dragged away. "Doomed us!" he screamed as the soldiers strained against him. Once or twice it looked like he was going to break free, but they managed to hold firm. "Not for nothing does Castleton need a strong leader – without one the wolves will come out and stalk their prey. He kept them at bay, don't you understand?" His voice began to die away. "Mark my words! You are prey!" Zelda ignored him as she stepped off the dais that the throne stood on.

"Tingle," she said.

As was his habit, the advisor appeared out of nowhere. "Yes, milady?"

She'd decided to keep him around, decided that his knowledge and apparent neutral stance was worth more than letting him rot in some dungeon. Glancing over at him, Zelda felt that there was something odd about his appearance but couldn't quite place exactly what. "Tell all the people waiting to come back tomorrow," she said. "I'm tired, and I'm going to go for a walk in the Castle's Gardens."

"Yes, milady," he replied. "Very good."

She stepped away from him, then paused. Finally she realised what it was about him that was bothering her. "Tingle."

"Yes, milady?"

"Take off that green hat."

"Very good, milady."

Zelda stepped into the corridor that led down to the lower chambers, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the sudden loss of light, and basking in the cool shadows that fell across her face. She walked swiftly, with purpose, alone with her thoughts. Passing windows on her right she caught glimpses of the Gardens waiting below, saw the fountain standing in the centre, gushing water that fell into a frothy pool. It was early evening, the twilight sky shimmering with a deep blue-black sheen that revealed the winking of the stars. A nice night. Perhaps she could send a message to Ruto to join her here.

It had been a week since Zelda had taken control of Castleton and the weight of power was wearying. To his credit, Link had gone without even a hint of a fight, something that had both surprised and worried her. He was planning something, she was sure of it. She didn't visit him, locked up in the dungeons as he was, and she still didn't know what to do with him. Showing him the ring had failed, and so it seemed there was no way to reverse his condition.

He would have to stand trial, Zelda decided at last. He would have to pay for all he'd done. Her hand fell to the pouch holding her ring and instantly she hissed. How long would it take for her to break free from this childish habit?

Saria, on the other hand, she'd decided to let go. No doubt the diminutive Kokiri was just another of Link's victims, a poor dupe caught in the web that the Shadow Lord had to expertly spun. Zelda had told Saria to go back to her people, to reflect on her actions, then devote herself to those under her charge. Like Link, the small woman had departed gracefully, though the Princess' new network of spies – another policy of the Shadow Lord's that she'd discreetly decided to keep – couldn't tell her if the Kokiri had actually left the city yet.

Her father had been a little harder to dislodge. Zelda bit down on her lower lip as she recalled the lies she'd told him, the tales of how Link had been taken ill and so couldn't see him off, and how the Shadow Lord had left her in temporary charge. The King had grumbled and protested, demanding to see the patient for himself, but Zelda had managed to put into his mind how lonely Malon must be waiting back at the Palace. That was enough for him to leave, though it was with much reluctance. She didn't want to reveal her plans to him just yet, though she ached to show him just how capable she really was. All she needed was the support of the people and her father would see that she was worthy to sit in Castleton's seat of power.

And that, of course, where it had all gone wrong. The people of Castleton had greeted the change of power with the same reaction they greeted the rising of the sun – complete indifference. But as the week drew on and Zelda tried to implement her changes, she knew that comments were being passed around questioning her worthiness, knew that the gossip around the water pump focused on how much everything was better when the Shadow Lord was in charge.

Anger flowed into Zelda's veins. The ingrates! Already in the past week, she'd freed all the slaves, and invited the Gorons to come and live here in the city. Yes, there was now an overabundance of people, yes, there wasn't enough employment for all of them and, yes, she conceded that the price of bread had shot up now there were no more workers in the fields to gather the crops on time, but surely these were just minor ripples and life would sort itself out. It had to. She'd done the right thing. Why couldn't anyone else see that?

Toren's look of hate and Jarunia's dire proclamation flashed in her mind just then. She knew now why the noblemen that visited the Palace always spoke with disdain about the common man's level of intelligence.

A sudden 'thunk' from outside made her freeze. Zelda spun around, her skirts swirling, and scanned the windows. Her heart thudded as she tried to catch even the hint of another sound. Nothing. Had she imagined it?

Then a metallic scrape rung out from beyond one of the windows – the sound of a grappling hook lodging itself into marble - quickly followed by the crack and shatter of breaking glass. The Princess grasped at her belt, hoping to find her sword. She cursed when she realised she hadn't armed herself. Her head snapped up as she saw two figures slide in through the opening. Taking in a deep breath, she stood her ground.

"Well, that was a surprise, I must say," one of them said, a male voice. "I was sure we would plummet straight to the ground, breaking our necks in the process." He paused, as though pondering, then added, "In fact, that may still be our fate."

Zelda recognised the voice instantly. "Bounty hunter," she breathed. She took a step forward, then cried, "Stop!"

The intruders looked up, startled. Starlight fell on the other man, and Zelda saw that it was the foppish braggart, Franco DeZorres. It was he who now spoke. "Well, well. Just the person we were looking for." He nodded at the bounty hunter. "You see? We are lucky, after all."

"No doubt," the other replied, "she has some sort of weapon tucked away, hidden from our view, that she will brandish any moment now heralding our instant demise."

Franco rolled his eyes, sighing. "Does she look like she has a weapon? Tucked away where, exactly? Nowhere, not unless she sits _very_ uncomfortably."

"Perhaps," the Stalfos protested, "she has a bombchu hidden in her bodice."

"Why," Franco said through gritted teeth, "would she have a bombchu there of all places?"

"To kill us, of course."

"How would she even know we were coming?!"

"Then why is she waiting for us here, at exactly the spot where we agreed to enter?" The bounty hunter looked extremely pleased with himself. "She knew we were coming. And she waited." He paused. "With a bombchu." Another pause. "Tucked down her dress. We're dead for certain now."

"A bombchu." Franco was breathing heavily now, his eyes bloodshot. "As opposed to a sword and a whole platoon of guards?"

"Yes. Exactly."

"Why," Franco groaned, "did I pick you as an accomplice? Me, who destroyed the Blight of Blozden with my two bare hands, me, who stopped the Plague of the Hornons with just a bootlace – how did I end up with you in this endeavour?"

"What is it you want?" Zelda spat, cutting off their squabbling. Her voice carried far more strength than her nerves at the moment. In the time they'd taken to argue, she had managed to back away slowly. The far end of the corridor was still quite a distance away, but if she ran fast enough she hoped she could make it. "Why are you breaking into my Castle?"

The Stalfos shuffled forward. "No doubt this will all end messily, with my death being the most gruesome," he said, "but at this point in time myself and my associate – who I fully expect to betray me sometime in the future – have decided that it would be prudent for us to take a more, shall we say, 'hands-on' approach to the affairs of Castleton?"

Zelda tensed, ready to run. She had to ask: "Meaning?"

"Meaning, my dear," Franco replied, standing up straight and brushing down his tunic. "You're about to have the shortest reign in history."

Zelda spun on her heels and sprinted down the passageway. She heard the two men shout after her, but she kept on moving, pushing her muscles until they screamed with pain. She had to get to the lower chambers. Her guards would be there, and they'd have weapons. She could-

The wind flew from her lungs as the Bounty Hunter crashed into her back. They fell to the ground, rolling. Zelda scrabbled for a handhold, hoping to catch them unawares so she could grasp at another attempt at escape. It all crumbled to ash as she felt a boot weigh down on her chest. The Princess glanced up to see the sharp tip of a sword pointed straight at her.

The Bounty Hunter and Franco grinned. "It's a shame," the fop said. "You were so beautiful, too."

The last thing Princess Zelda remembered was her blurred reflection staring back at her from the polished steel of the blade; a blade that loomed closer and closer and…


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The Shadow Lord sat on the grimy floor of his cell, his back pressed against one cold wall. Corroded steel bars hemmed in both himself and a fellow prisoner, but Link was far from worried. Instead, he seemed to be in high spirits as he hummed a little tune to himself, his fingers tapping against his knee. The other prisoner, a sickly looking man with wild hair and a dirt-streaked face stared at him with throbbing eyes. The Shadow Lord gave him a nod, a tiny wave and a smile in return.

Chains tinkled in the near darkness, before the prisoner plucked up the courage to speak. "What is it you're so happy about, eh?" His voice betrayed a thousand layers of bitterness. Not surprising, since he was in chains, and Link wasn't. "You're not so special down here. You're just like the rest of us. And if you don't stop with your humming, I might be tempted to pull out that tongue of yours."

Link tilted his head towards the other man. "Charming, mate," he said. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

Another shuffle, another clink of metal on metal. "In case you haven't noticed," the prisoner replied. "There's nothing here to be cheerful about."

"In case _you_ haven't noticed, mate," the Shadow Lord replied. "We're quite well-protected down here. Well fed, too." He raised both eyebrows. "Always look on the bright side, that's what I say."

The prisoner coughed, an incredulous look spreading over his face. "Bright side?" he spat. "We've lost our freedom. Not anything bright about that!"

Link shook his head. "Temporarily," he corrected. "We've lost our freedom temporarily." He chewed over his thoughts. "At least, I have. Think of it as a little time to yourself. To reflect, and enjoy the finer things." He paused, and then asked, "What are you in for anyway, mate?"

The prisoner gave a humourless grin. "You put me in here." The grin turned into a smirk. "For murder."

"Lovely," Link sighed. "What's your name then, mate?"

"Moogle."

"Moogle?"

"Yes."

"Moogle it is then." Link thought about this for a moment. "It's not your parents you tried to kill was it? I mean, if my parents had named me Moogle, Id be very-"

"No."

They fell into silence. The Shadow Lord tapped his fingertips against each other. "It'd be quite understandable, though. I mean, I might even have let you off if that's what had driven you to-"

"It…was not…my parents." Moogle's voice was strained, his breath laboured. Seeing that the conversation was over, he tilted his head back against the wall, closed his eyes, and let out a sigh.

The Shadow Lord fidgeted on the floor. His eyes darted from Moogle to the steel bars, and then back to Moogle again, his lips twitching. The murderer's eyes flew open. "What is it?" he cried.

"Had a little too much Red Potion after they had you, was that it?" Link's words fall from his tongue in a torrent. "Or maybe some sort of demonic possession? I always thought that Tingle's parents were demonically possessed. Nabooru's, too." A pause. "And whatever strength potion came up with the name Jabu Jabu, I'd like a drop of that please, if you will."

Moogle slammed his chains down against the floor, bringing up a puff a dust in response. "Will you stop talking about my parents?" he snarled. "Stop talking about anybody's parents!"

Link leaned back against the wall. "Right you are, mate," he said softly. He gazed at a lamp hanging outside the cell, the oil inside glazed with the glow of the flame as flies darted in and around the glass. "No need to get all twitchy now."

A commotion from outside their cell made them both look up. Burly guards appeared in the passageway, a small prisoner in their arms. They stopped in front of the cell opposite the Shadow Lord's. Link tried, but he couldn't get a glimpse at the newcomer. There was a creak of a rusted door opening, then the slam of metal against metal, then the jingle of keys topped off with a click of a lock. The guards left in a hurry.

Bouncing on to his feet, the Shadow Lord peered into the other cell. His jaw dropped open. "Princess Zelda?"

When she snapped her head around to face him, Link almost shrank back in shock. It was Zelda, but a far cry from the comely image of her he held in his mind's eye. A deep angry scar now led from her scalp, crossing through one eye, and down her cheek to her chin. Her eye was now white, like a peeled boiled egg, and her face was a mess. Ruined. Disfigured. He couldn't control the disgust in his heart, nor could he bring himself to look at her for too long. Instead, he asked, "Who did that to you, love?"

"Go away," she spat, and the hurt ringing in her voice was genuine. "It's none of your business anyway."

"Tell me." His voice was soft. "Who did that to you?"

When she looked at him again, he had to turn away. What happened to her beauty? What was she without her beauty?"

"What does it matter who did this to me?" she asked angrily. "What does it matter to you?"

Link forced himself to stare straight at her. "Because, love," he said, "whoever did this has just got himself a meeting with my blade."

She stared back at him, various emotions fighting for dominance on her face. Finally she whirled away, saying only, "You don't have your sword, anyway."

"Oh?" The Shadow Lord felt his anger rise. "And whose fault is that, then? Whose fault is it that I'm down here in the first place?"

Zelda had retreated to one corner of her cell, absent-mindedely wiping away the dirt there before she sat down. "It's where you deserve to be," she continued. "Castleton is better off without you."

Deeply buried resentment made the Shadow Lord's lip twitch. "Seems to me, love, that Castleton was doing quite alright until you pulled your little revolution." Her appearance here brought a query into his mind. "So, who's in charge now, eh?"

Zelda ignored the question. "I only meant to set to rights the wrongs you had wrought."

Link dragged himself to the steel bars, letting his hands curl around the rust stained metal. "Oh, because dear-old-Princess thinks its wrong, so that means it _must _be wrong," he growled. "What's it like being the centre of the world, love? Must be really hard for you."

"Of course what you did was wrong," she countered, her voice dripping with equal venom. "Any fool could see that."

Their voices rang out through the air, echoing and bouncing off the walls. "I don't see the fools rebelling against me, like they've so obviously done with you, love."

She flashed him one look of pure hatred, before turning her whole body away to face the wall. "You probably had them killed. Or made into slaves. I wouldn't put it past you." She took in a deep breath. "I heard that you torture those who don't agree with you, that you inflict on them all manners of pain."

"Probably?" Link turned to Moogle who was watching the proceedings like an eager spectator. "You hear that? Her whole philosophy of her little coup was based on hearsay. Well, mate, wouldn't you think it's only those of the dullest intellects that make decisions based on what other people say?"

"Oh, yes!" Moogle said enthusiastically, having gotten thoroughly swept up in what was happening.

Zelda shuffled in her corner. "Who's that?"

"Moogle," said Link.

"Moogle?"

The man in question shrugged helplessly. "It was my parents."

"Oh," said Zelda. She turned back around, prompting the Shadow Lord to look away hastily once more. "What about the Gorons?" she asked. "What about the slaves? Hardly ethical behaviour, Link."

The Shadow Lord sneered. "And this from a woman who hired a bounty hunter against me."

Zelda's eyes flash. "That was different."

"So is what I do." Link began to pace. "You hear that, mate?" he said, addressing Moogle. "Just because she doesn't understand it, that means it must be wrong."

"You said that already," Moogle pointed out.

"Quiet, mate, I'm just getting warmed up." He cleared his throat. "I'd hate to see her trying to seal a diplomatic treaty, wouldn't you? She'd think that just because, say, the Outlanders like to leave their children in the wild - rite of passage into adulthood sort of thing - that they were '_oh-so-barbaric.'_ " He stopped, and whirled on his heels. "Here's a bit of free advice, Princess, little Miss Destiny, oh keeper-of-supposed-and-vastly-overrated-wisdom that you are." He paused to let his taunts sink in. "You…don't…know…nothing."

"Anything!" Zelda spat, jumping to her feet, then marching to the bars, her eyes ablaze. "It's 'you don't know anything.' Learn how to speak properly if you think you're worthy to run a city in _my_ kingdom."

Link stared at her. Zelda stared back. Then, he said quietly, "It's not 'I don't know nothing?'"

"'I don't know anything!'"

"You said it, love." The Shadow Lord snickered to himself, then glided away from the bars.

Zelda seethed, her jaws working, but no words coming free. Finally, she said, "You are _such_ a juvenile."

The Shadow Lord stopped, then spun around, a mischievous look on his face. "But that's why you love me, innit?"

"I hate you!"

Link twitched, then strode back to the bars. He felt an age of resentment and frustration bubbling in his chest. He tried to stem the feelings, but couldn't. Knowing that he'd regret it but feeling compelled to say it anyway, he spat, "You know, none of this would have happened if you'd not sent me back."

Confusion flashed across the Princess' ruined face. Somewhere in the distance, just as she lapsed into silence, a drop of water plopped to the ground, the noise amplified by the cramped conditions. It reminded her that she was in a less than savoury situation. "Sent you…back in time?" Her jaw dropped open. ""Are you mad? This is what all this is about? You wanted to live in that desolate wasteland where Hyrule was completely destroyed?" She struggled to control her breathing. "Why?!"

Biting back a reply only because he didn't have anything to say, Link simply glared. Finally, even though the words seemed hollow, he said, "No. I wanted to stay so I could be with –"

"Link!" All three of them jumped at the sound of the newcomer's voice. The Shadow Lord looked around, then dropped to his knees, his fingers working one of the stone blocks that made up part of the cell wall. Zelda and Moogle watched, confused but intrigued. At last, the block came free with a low groan and a small familiar Kokiri, her tiny form covered in dust, crawled through, coughing.

"Saria?" Zelda said. "I should have known."

The Kokiri got to her feet, then brushed herself down. She glanced at the Princess, giving her a curious look. "That didn't last long then, did it?"

Eyes as slits, Zelda simply glared. Link grinned at the exchange. "I know this castle like the back of my hand, love," he said. "Tunnel's too small for me, of course, but no problem for a Kokiri. She's been in and out of here for the past week. Both in my old cell, and then this one they brought me to last night." He glanced at Moogle. "She popped in while you were sleeping, mate."

"And why, pray may I ask, is she here?" Zelda asked.

Link flashed her another grin. "To help me escape, of course. She couldn't get the key, but she could get the next best thing." A shadow of concern fell across his features. He glanced at his smaller friend. "You did get it, right?"

Saria glanced up. "I got _her,_ yes."

"Good!" He nodded at the other two. "Now if you'll excuse me." He tipped his head towards Zelda, "Love" and then to Moogle, "Mate."

Saria turned to face Link who abruptly yanked her by the arm to take her to the far corner. "Saria!" he whispered.

"I'm here," she said, pulling a small leather bag from her belt. It glowed and seemed to be moving frantically, as though trying to tear itself apart. "I'm sorry it took so long, it took a while to convince her, you see."

"Forget about that," the Shadow Lord said. "There's something more important - she's not beautiful anymore!"

The Kokiri blinked. "What?"

Link gestured with agitated hand movements. "Zelda!" he hissed. "She isn't beautiful anymore! What am I going to do?"

Saria glanced at the other cell. "Oh," she said, and then winced. "That must have hurt."

"I know!" said Link. "I was heartbroken!"

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Saria said, "Not _you_. Her."

"But she's not beautiful anymore!" he moaned.

Saria sighed. "So what, Link? I mean, does it matter?" She threw another glance at the other cell. "I must say she seems to be taking this better than you, Link." She turned back. "And, anyway, aren't you the one that berates the people for liking a pretty face like Franco DeZorres?"

The Shadow Lord scowled, but felt suitably chastened. "That's different."

"Is it?" the Kokiri replied, arching an eyebrow. The light from the lantern fell on her, bathing her face in a yellow hue. Her eyes twitched, sparkling as a result of that very same lantern light, and a sudden thought came to her. A slow smile crawled over her lips. "I think that after the two of you get out of here, you may get the chance to find something more to her to interest you than her beauty."

"Doubt it." Link's voice was sullen. He seemed to hug himself, though he couldn't decide whether it was from the cold in the cell or from the chill in the heart. "Anyway, give me that." Saria threw the small, struggling bag into Link's hands. "No Red Potion?"

Saria silenced him with a sharp look then, without any further attempts at conversation, she darted back to the tunnel. "I'll see you on the outside," she said, smiling. The Shadow Lord smiled back as she crawled into the tiny passageway.

Link placed the small leather bag on his palm, then slowly untied the string. For a moment, the bag fell still, and nothing emerged. The Shadow Lord watched carefully, with bated breath and thudding heart. Then, slowly, carefully, he brought his other hand up and gently gave the tiny sack a quick flick. A ball of pure light shot out, flying straight into the ceiling, hitting it with a grunt, then spinning to a stop. "Hey!" the fairy said. "Listen!"

Grinning, the Shadow Lord opened his arms in a gesture of welcome. "I'm listening, Navi!"

"Navi?" Zelda asked uncertainly from her cell. The fairy zipped over to the Princess, trailing light that sparkled before fading away, and then said, "Hey!" Zelda jerked back. "Listen!"

"She's listening, too, Navi," the Shadow Lord said. "Now if you could just-"

Navi glided through the air back to the other cell then, with her tiny wings fluttering, shot straight over to Moogle. Smiling, she came to a sudden stop in front of his face. "Hey!" she said happily. "Listen!"

Link roared. "We're all bleedin' listening, Navi!" He let out a breath, closed his eyes, then quickly got a hold of his composure. "I do apologise. Navi. The door. If you please."

The tiny fairy's face scrunched up as she slowly floated over to the lock. "No need to get so stroppy," she grumbled. She stopped in mid-air, then shot up towards Link, flying straight under his hat.

"Hey!" the Shadow Lord snapped, his hands desperately trying to swat at the little woman. "Hey! Not the hat! No one touches the hat!"

Navi squealed, then dived out from under his hat, looping in the air, and then slowing to hover in front of his eyes. "I always stay in your hat," she said.

Link had to blink just from her luminance. "Not anymore, love. The hat is off-limits." He let out another deep breath. "Now. Would you please open the door?"

The fairy zoomed into the lock. Clunking and clicking sounds came from within, the whole cell door shuddering as Navi went to work. Zelda peered out from her cell, engrossed in what was happening. Glancing up, she caught Link's eye. The Shadow Lord winked at her, and she looked away quickly.

Finally, a sharp _ping_ rang out and the cell door slowly swung open with a groan. Navi swooped out, twirled, then turned to face Link, arms crossed and wearing a look that told that she was thoroughly satisfied with herself.

"Nice one, love," he said. He gestured at the other cell. "Now the Princess."

Zelda stepped back. "I don't need your help."

For the third time, Link let out a deep breath, this one tinged with a mixture of impatience and sheer exasperation. "Yes," he said. "You do."

Navi dived into the Princess' lock, this time snapping it open with ease. Zelda looked distinctly uncomfortable, her sullen expression revealing the thoughts that were churning inside. Then, with a sigh, she stepped out. The Princess glanced into the other cell, her eyes finding Moogle. "Come, my friend," she said, kindness washing over her words. "You're free now."

Link, who had been strolling out, literally screeched to a halt. He held up a hand. "Hold on, love," he said. A smile planted firmly on his face, the Shadow Lord turned to the prisoner. "Just one quick question, mate" he said. "Who is it you killed again?"

Moogle, practically drooling at the prospect of freedom, said, "My brother. I wanted his wife. Doesn't matter now." He looked at them both with a look of complete and utter gratitude. "Help me out of these chains, friends," he breathed. "I...I'll show you the way out. Anything." He gave them a sickly grin. "I'm just so glad I was in a cell with you." Tears came to his eyes. "Just so glad."

It was as though someone had breathed ice into the air at that moment. The Shadow Lord's smile dropped, his eyes turning dark like lumps of coal. "I'm so sorry, mate," he said, though his voice was glacier-like. "Murderers aren't included in this jailbreak." With a shove Link slammed the cell door shut, taking a grim satisfaction as he heard the lock click.

"No!" Moogle begged. His chains jangled as he struggled. "Please!" Sudden sobs racked his body. "_Please!_"

Zelda, looking completely bewildered, glanced from Link to Moogle and then back to Link. The Shadow Lord noticed her indecision. "Don't you say anything, love," he warned. His dark stare kept her rooted to the spot. "Last I remember, traitors deserved the same fate as murderers, too."

The Princess opened her mouth, gaped, stared, then shut it with a snap.

Link gestured at Navi and then curled a hand around the Princess' wrist. "Let's go," he said. "We're movin' out."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Their footsteps rang out in the dim corridor as it winded its way down into the depths of the castle. The Shadow Lord walked at a brisk pace, Navi gliding up ahead of him, the bright radiance of her tiny form cutting a path of light through the gloom, and Princess Zelda struggled to keep up. "Wait, wait, _wait!_" she huffed. Her scar throbbed with a cold tingle, but she kept her mind on the task at hand, not wanting to let her thoughts dwell on what her face must look like now. "Where are we going? This isn't the way out!"

The Shadow Lord tilted his head towards her before he spoke. She noticed that he did not – or would not – look directly at her. "Secrets, love, this castle is full of secrets." His voice sounded hollow. "If what you've said is true – about Rojan and the fop taking over – we're going to need weapons garnished with a dash of surprise."

They rounded another corner, the floor dipping slightly to show that were still descending. "What kind of surprise?" Zelda asked. Her eyes went from shadow to shadow, seeing a dead torch here, a cobweb there and, occasionally, the slight shuffle of movement that signified the presence of the spidery Skulltulas. When Link didn't reply, she said, "I didn't even know the castle was this…deep."

"Lot of things you didn't know, love," Link replied from up ahead of her. This time he did turn to her, his eyes sparkling with a smug sense of satisfaction. "Like the portals for example."

Zelda arched an eyebrow. "Portals?"

"That's right." The Shadow Lord turned away as he veered sharply into another passageway. Zelda had to twist mid-step to match the change in momentum. "Apparently this castle is older than we thought. At least its foundations are. See – your ancestors built it on the remains of an ancient Sheikah fortress." He glanced back and winked. "Nice touch, if I may so." He picked up his pace. "Now, as soon as it was built, people started hearing things in the night. Voices, bumps, that sort of thing."

Zelda felt an expression of scorn fall on her face. "Ghosts? I hardly th-"

"That's what they thought," the Shadow Lord said, cutting in. "Ghosts. But it wasn't, you see. Turns out that the old landlords had bewitched the place, threaded their old fortress with a series of portals so that they could get from one place to another with the least amount of effort." Link turned to her and grinned. "I like the way they think." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, what was happening was that people were hearing conversations and noises on one side of the castle from the other. Not liking the whole situation they closed off the portals – but the locations, ah, the locations of these sweet little portals were preserved, recorded by a few of the more prudent and pragmatic castle dwellers." He shook his head. "And that's where we're going now. Open the portal, get the weapons, strike back at the usurpers and then," he turned around completely so that he was walking backwards for a moment, "take back _my_ city."

"So why have you dragged me along?" Zelda asked, bitterness threading into her voice.

"Hate to admit it, love," the Shadow Lord replied. "But I need you." He blinked, then added hastily, "Need your help, that is. Can't do this by myself, and old Navi here is a tad small. So," he took in a deep breath as his voice dropped an octave, "it's just you and me, sunshine."

The Princess gave him an odd look as she lapsed into silence. His words had set off a tremor within her, but she wasn't quite sure what exactly it was that she was feeling. Her ring had failed, and Link had remained the same evilly twisted madman that he'd become over the years. But then…why should she give up so easily? She looked at him with a different light – he was clearly resourceful and intelligent, and he had the basic tools necessary to run Castleton efficiently. The only problem was his lack of morals and his very warped worldview. If only she could bring him back…but if the ring had failed, what else could she do?

Her mouth went dry as the only possible solution formed into her mind – perhaps she should just _tell_ him?

Up ahead a wedge of light peeked through a crack in the wall. Navi flew up to it, peered upwards, and then cried, "Hey! Lis-" She coughed. "Look!"

They crowded around the small opening, and Zelda found herself staring up at a small group of townsfolk who were, in turn, staring up at a raised podium. Though they were below the dungeons, the trio were still not deep enough to be truly underground. The Princess squinted as she saw a figure shuffle onto the dais.

"The bounty hunter," Link murmured. "This should be interesting."

Zelda glanced at him; found that the Shadow Lord was crouching uncomfortable close to her. She shifted ever so slightly to give herself some space. Peering through the hole, she whispered, "I wonder what the people think of this change of power."

Link grinned. "They'll hate it, of course, love," he replied. "They're just begging for me to come back." She knew he wouldn't be able to control himself and so wasn't surprised when he added, "Unlike you, my people were madly in love with their Shadow Lord."

Zelda said nothing in response. The trio watched as the Stalfos raised an arm. "All hail Rojan, joint ruler of Castleton!"

The townsfolk, grins plastered on their faces, raised their arms in response, then shouted enthusiastically: "Hurrah! All hail Rojan! Mighty one! Generous one! True ruler of Castleton!"

The Shadow Lord, his expression aghast, let his jaw drop open. "Bladdy ingrates!"

Zelda jabbed him with the point of her elbow. "Ssh!" she snapped, though she couldn't quite stop herself from smiling. "Quiet!"

"Truly," the Stalfos went on, "it is a deep honour for me to be in the service of such honourable people."

"Hurrah!" cried the crowd. They looked very much pleased with proceedings.

"Now," Rojan said, "is the time for Castleton to move forward. Now is the time for a change!"

The people roared their approval. "Hurrah!"

"A true time," the bounty hunter continued, letting his gaze rest on the townsfolk. "A time long forgotten." His glowing eyes seemed to turn inward, as though he were reminiscing. "A time…of misery! And despair!"

"Hurrah!" said half of the crowd. The other half looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Rojan grinned. "Let us hope for a blight on our crops!" Some people in the throng glanced uncertainly at each other. "And a curse on all our children!" He raised his fist again. "Hurrah!"

The crowd decided to look anywhere but the podium. Some decided to take a curious interest in the ground beneath their feet. Others found the dirt under their fingernails to be particularly fascinating.

"He's mad," Link hissed from between clenched teeth. "Why in the world would anyone want a madman to run this city?"

Zelda made to reply, but was distracted by the bounty hunter pushing forward two small, indistinct figures, manacled by their arms and legs. "Here is our first dire proclamation," Rojan said sweetly, his skeletal features stretched into a macabre grin. "Any who oppose us," he continued, "shall suffer. Painfully. Brutally. Harshly." He flicked a glance down at the onlookers. "You know, just like our everyday lives." He pushed the prisoners forward.

The Shadow Lord tensed instantly. "Saria!"

Zelda took in a sharp breath. "Ruto!"

"They must have found her when she was trying to flee the castle," Link said. He pulled away from the opening, deciding he'd seen enough. The bounty hunter was droning on now and he didn't want to hear any of it.

The Princess gaped. "Ruto probably heard that something had gone wrong," she said, her voice hushed. "And then came straight over here. That's where they got her."

Link's hands balled into trembling fists. "It's all my fault," he said. "Shouldn't have let the little love try to spring us all on her own."

Zelda looked at him, momentarily surprised by this raw moment of honesty. "You weren't to know."

The Shadow Lord shook his head. "They lay a finger on her and I'll skin them alive." He blinked as he thought on. "Then dip them in salt."

Frowning, the Princess tried to organise her thoughts. "I don't think they're going to do that." She saw him glance at her, then added, "Lay a finger on them, that is."

Link shot her an incredulous look. "Of course they are, love. Why else have taken them?"

"No, listen to me." Zelda's furrowed brow deepened. "They must know we've escaped." She glanced down the passageway, half expecting a horde of troops to come raging at them. "But they think we've left the castle. So…this…this display here is to send a message. They'll know we'll find out about Ruto and Saria. And then they expect us to come back, and that's when they'll deal with us."

"Not unless," Link said, moving away from the hole so that the light fell on his back, "we deal with them first." He smiled at her. "Nice work, love. Seems like you didn't lose all of your wisdom after all."

Zelda almost flushed with pleasure – she was surprised herself with the reaction – until his words completely sank in. "Lose?" she asked. "What do you mean 'lose'?"

The Shadow Lord looked flustered for a moment. "Erm," he stumbled. "Nothing. Slip of the tongue. Nothing more. Let's go, let's go…time's not on our side, and we've got friends to be rescuing."

Zelda felt a smile curl onto her lips. "Rescue friends?" she asked, her voice light. "Is that why you're doing this?" As though she couldn't let herself dare to hope, she felt the acrid taste of scorn enter her words. "I thought your seat of power would be more important to you than one little 'friend.'"

Link spun around on his heels to face her. The anger on his face made the Princess shrink back, and prompted Navi to dart towards the ceiling for safety. "I'm sorry, love," the Shadow Lord barked. "Is it a little too humbling for you to finally be the one doing the rescuing and not the one who's needing to be rescued?" His eyes blazed. "Bit jealous are you, sunshine? Must be a new experience for you. Want to sit down and recover while I fan you and feed you grapes?"

Hot rage burst into Zelda's heart. "That's not what I meant!" she snapped. "And I do not think of myself like that!"

Cocking his head to one side, the Shadow Lord continued with his tirade, "Oh, is that so, sunshine?" he said. "You know what – you think you're so special. You think you only care about others. But, hey, here's the truth – the only reason you bother to help other people is so that you can feel good about yourself; it's so you can think to yourself 'oh, aren't I so wonderful?'" His chest was heaving now. "You're nothing more than a leech that feeds on other people's sufferings just to boost your own sense of self."

The Princess recoiled as though she'd been physically slapped. "Lie! That's a lie!" Burning tears stung her eyes. Link was about to continue, but she cut him off swiftly. "Well, here's the truth about _you_, 'Shadow Lord.'" She stepped up to him so that her face almost touched his. He was about to look away when she cupped her hand around his chin and jerked his head back towards her. "Look at me. _Look at me._ What's the matter, Link? I don't look so wholesome to you anymore, do I? Why's that, I wonder? Oh, let me guess – little boy misses his mother. His beautiful, kind mother – but what's this? Here's a princess he knows, and she fits exactly the image he's been carrying around in his heart for years. But – oh dear – she's not about to give him all that love and tenderness he craves, because quite frankly, she's not just not interested in…a pathetic…_little_…_immature…boy._"

Link wheeled away from her touch. "I am _not_ immature." He struggled to regain his composure. "And you have a very high opinion of yourself, I must say."

Zelda snapped her head up towards him. "So do you." She knew she shouldn't. She knew it would be a mistake. But she couldn't resist. "Oh, and…and you think I only care about myself? You think I've never had genuine feelings for someone else?" Reaching into the pouch on her belt, she pulled free the ring. It flashed momentarily in the small light. "Well, _this_ proves you wrong. And, no, it isn't a magical ring, it's-"

"-not a marriage band, is it?" Link asked.

Before she could stop herself, the Princess said: "Yes!" And though she felt distinctly stupid saying it, she added: "_We_ are married!"

Silence fell. They stood – the Princess and the Hero – looking straight at each other. Link's form was framed by the small crack of light, and he seemed to be, at that moment in time, wreathed by a halo of illumination. From somewhere above, Navi peeked out from her hiding place. Link gazed at Zelda. Zelda gazed at Link. Blinking, their eyes grew wide, the strength of their emotions overwhelming. The Princess trembled, her heart thumping loudly in her chest.

"Ha," said Link.

"I'm sorry?" asked Zelda.

"Ha," the Shadow Lord went on. "Ha…hahahahaha…_haaaaaaahahahaha…_hahahahaha…married! Hahahaha! _Married! _Hahaha!" Link doubled over. Zelda watched in stony silence. "Haaaaahahahaha." The Shadow Lord wiped away tears as he collapsed to the floor. "Heeheeheehahaha." The Princess cocked an eyebrow. Link began slapping the floor. "Hahahahahaha."

Finally he stopped, gasping in huge lungfuls of air. The sound of his voice faded away in the darkness. Zelda folded her arms across her chest. Ever so slowly, Link raised his head to look at her. Their eyes met. "_Bwaaaaa…hahahahahahaha. Married! HAAAAAAAhahahahhahahaha!_"

Zelda's eyes narrowed. "This is not quite the reaction I was expecting."

The Shadow Lord's only response was to roll over on to his back, throw his legs into the air, then begin to kick his feet as his body shook with laughter.

"Get up," Zelda said, her tone icy. "We've got to work to do. We'll discuss this later."

Link pulled himself to his feet, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "Yes, dear."

"Don't call me that." The Princess began to stalk off. She heard Link titter behind her. "And stop that."

"Love," he said.

She spun around, desperately hoping that her face conveyed her anger and not her deep sense of hurt. "What?!"

"You're going the wrong way."

Zelda scowled, the muscles in her face clenching and unclenching. "Lead the way," she seethed, her teeth clenched tightly.

They strode on in stony silence, as though a glacier of solid ice now stood between the two of them. Zelda kept her eyes fixed firmly ahead, not wanting to even glance at the Shadow Lord. Her heart felt like a gaping pit, empty and raw at the same time. She was mad; she must be to have revealed herself like that. What did it matter now anyway? They were obviously two completely different people. Dimly she was aware that the ring was still embedded into the palm of her hand, biting into her skin. She glanced down at it, saw the crimson soreness of her hand, and was tempted to just throw the useless thing away.

Something flashed in her eyes, and Zelda glanced up to see Navi give her a sad smile. The Princess smiled back, slightly comforted by the small show of solidarity. The fairy fluttered away, spilling droplets of light in her wake.

All of a sudden, Link came to a stop in front of a bare, stone wall. "Here we are."

Zelda examined it quickly. "There's cracks in it," she said.

"That's right, love," he said. "And I don't know why, but one thing I've learned about Hyrule is: where there's a crack, there's a way." He then added in a low voice, "Not very subtle, if I should say so meself, but awfully handy when you're just seven years old thrust into a nightmare searching for some spiritual grapefruits." He closed his eyes, hissed, then corrected himself, "Stones. Spiritual stones." He blinked, and then: "You know, it always struck me that stones aren't really that spiritual. They're more…material, if you get what I'm saying. I mean, they were probably worth an aw-"

"Link," the Princess cut in, her voice echoing in the near empty passageway. "Open the portal."

To her surprise, the Shadow Lord merely nodded. He lay one palm flat on the wall, and then tapped on it with his other hand. His eyes narrowed as he listened. Shifting his hand, he tapped again and listened again. He did this a few times until he finally stopped abruptly. Stepping back, he steadied himself, rocking on his heels, then ploughed his shoulder into the wall. It collapsed instantly and a blinding light flooded the corridor. Energy crackled from within, whipping their hair and tugging at their clothes.

The Shadow Lord called over the din. "After you, Princess."

Zelda glanced at Link, then at the open portal. She could see nothing inside except a brilliant glow that stung her eyes. Swallowing as she steeled herself, the Princess stepped through the portal.

The light swallowed her whole.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The light faded, melting back into the familiar curves and angled lines of reality. The gust of a cool breeze took over, and the Shadow Lord found himself kneeling in a clump of flattened grass, the earthy scent of soil hanging in the air. His head spun, the disorientation of portal travel almost making his stomach heave. He could feel Navi darting about above their heads, could see the patterns her illuminated form cast onto the ground. In a dim corner of his mind not throbbing with pain, Link was aware that it was night time, and that starlight shone from above. Nearby, he heard Zelda's laboured breathing, and knew she was suffering from the same affliction he was. He pushed his hands into the earth, taking comfort in the crumbly mass under his fingers, then took in a deep breath. He never realised that this would hurt so much.

The Princess gasped. "Darknut!"

Link snapped his eyes up. "What did you call me?"

"_No._" Zelda stumbled onto her feet, tumbling backwards as she did so, and pointed with a trembling finger. "A Darknut! I'd heard about them from stories, but I'd never believed…" Her voice trailed off as shock tightened her throat.

Pulling himself upright, the Shadow Lord peered ahead for a closer look. A massive, hulking creature approached them, its wide frame covered in oversized armour, the horned helmet on its head plunging its face into darkness. It moved with a clunky, plodding pace, and each step it took, each deep thud as its foot crushed grass, made the ground tremble ever so slightly. It carried a colossal sword in one hand, so large that it seemed impossible that anyone could even lift it.

With a metallic creak of its neck, it turned to face Link. The Shadow Lord felt his mouth go dry.

"Run, Link," Zelda pleaded through clenched teeth. "We have to get out of here."

Link would have been very much inclined to agree. Except at that very moment there came the sound of a metal plate sliding open. Something rumbled from deep inside the Darknut's enormous form, the very air itself shaking with the momentum. A lick of flame burst from the creature's face, engulfing the Shadow Lord's head momentarily with a bright orange glow. Zelda screamed.

When the fiery display dissolved into darkness, Link found to his relief that he was very much alive and unhurt. His reflexes were still quick; he'd managed to duck at the very last moment. And yet, he could feel that he was missing something. Something terribly important. A cold sensation slid over his stomach. Slowly, so very slowly, the Shadow Lord raised his head – and there, where his magnificent, beautiful, dashing Green Hat had once proudly sat, there was now nothing but a speck of shrivelled black ash.

Link's eyes and mouth both stretched open. He gasped. He wanted to protest. Wanted to say something. Anything. But all that came from his mouth was a long, low squeak.

"Link!" Zelda called. "Let's go!"

What was wrong with her? Couldn't she see the calamity that had just befallen him? He could hear the Darknut edging noisily closer, but he just didn't care.

"Hey! Link!" Navi added her voice to Zelda's. "We have to run!"

The Shadow Lord flicked a look at the Princess, then at the fairy, then back to Zelda. The Princess, concern flooding her features, asked, "What's the matter?"

Link opened his mouth. "………haaaaaaaaaaaat….."

Zelda's warm expression turned to hot anger instantly. "Forget the hat, Link."

"…..haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat….."

"Link!" She was seething now. "Forget. The. Hat."

The Shadow Lord, hands curling to fists as he crouched into an attack position, turned to the Darknut. "RRRrrrrr!"

"No!" Zelda grabbed onto his arm. "You don't have any weapons." He looked at her, saw the various emotions dancing across her face. "Look…listen." Her eyes were darting to and fro, as though she were desperately trying to grasp at some far off idea. "The hat. The hat wouldn't want you to sacrifice yourself like this." She looked distinctly embarrassed for some reason, but the Shadow Lord found her words compelling. "Escape, Link. Live to fight another day." Her eyes grew wide and filled with tears, a pleading tone coming into her voice. "_Please_. Do it for the hat."

The Shadow Lord snapped back into his normal demeanour. "You're right, love." He nodded. "Let's move." Twirling around, he raised a fist. For a heartbeat, he was framed in the faint starlight and cut a dashing figure. "And you, Darknut. For the suffering you've caused this day, for the horrific act that you're perpetrated, I swear you'll pay. Oh yes, mate, are you going to pay…"

Zelda tugged him as she began to run. "Come _on._"

The trio sprinted over the hill and down into a valley. The landscape was surprisingly bare - no dwellings, no buildings, and only a few trees. The Shadow Lord slipped once, his shoulder banging into the sharp edge of a rocky outcropping. It tore through his tunic and bit into his skin. Link hissed, felt the soft warm splash of blood on his arm, then pulled himself up and carried on.

Soon they found themselves at the foot of another hill and, realising that they'd lost their pursuer, they stopped to rest. Link, after clearing away the moss and lichen with a brush of his hand, sat himself down on a boulder. Zelda lay flat on the floor, her eyes closed as she tried to regain her breath. Navi hovered slowly above, glancing nervously behind once or twice.

The Shadow Lord stretched his legs and let his head roll back as he waited for his thudding heart to still. "A Darknut," he murmured. "I could have beaten it."

Zelda kept her eyes shut. "How so?" she said from the corner of her mouth.

"See, that's another thing about Hyrule, love," he went on. "The monsters here are a bit…how do I say it?…weedy." He held up his palms, as though he were a Hylian scholar about to embark on a lecture. "Take Dodongo, for example. All I had to do was rough him about for a bit, and then hit his tail for a sum total of three times." He shook his head. "Three times! Then he explodes! I'm wondering - how in the world did he live in Death Mountain for all that time without hitting himself three times? Can you imagine his predicament when nature called? It's a miracle he survived for that long, I tell you." Silence hung for but a moment. "Do you know what I think, love?"

Zelda's brow twitched. "What?"

"Sensitive skin. That's what his problem was. He'd been holed away from the light of the sun for so long that all it took is three thwacks with a sword and – poof! – one dead Dodongo." His voice started to fade, as though he were reminiscing to himself. "Couldn't just drop down dead, either. Had to explode, too. And you have to wonder at the Gorons – if its so easy to kill, why'd they send a young boy down there to do the dirty deed? Bleedin lazy, that's what I think."

The Princess sat up straight, her eyes flying open. "This isn't Hyrule," she said. "And this isn't the castle." She turned to fix him with a pointed look. "You said the portal would take us to another part of the castle."

The Shadow Lord shrugged helplessly. "That's what was written, love. In the books, you know." He looked up at the clear night sky. "It certainly doesn't seem like any place familiar."

"So where _are_ we?"

Link continued to gaze up. "So long as we don't see a moon with a particularly evil grin on its face, we should be safe."

Zelda frowned. "What?"

The Shadow Lord lowered his eyes to meet hers. "I don't know where we are, love. It's possible we've been transported to some other place entirely. Some other _land _entirely. It was sort-of mentioned in some of the scrolls, like an afterthought. A negative consequence, if you will. There'd been reports that people had tried the portals in the past and had ended up in all sorts of strange places. Places where apes ruled, or giant, metal, shape-shifting men battled each other." He shrugged again. "One poor soul ended up in some sort of bizarre fungus kingdom. But, anyway, _most_ people were transported to another place in the castle. In fact, nine out of every ten. Just our luck to be the odd ones out."

There was a moment's silence before the Princess said, "So, you were wrong?"

An equally long pause followed, then, "Yes, I was, love." A smile played on his lips. "Unlike some people, I do know when to admit when I'm wrong." He cocked his head. "Well, most of the time, I do."

The Princess stared. "Are you trying to imply that I don't know when to admit my mistakes?"

Link held up his hands in a gesture of mock-surrender. "Did I say that, love?" he said, forcing feigned innocence into his voice. "Of course, if the shoe fits…"

Zelda's eyes flashed, and she moved to let fly with a retort. Then, all of a sudden, she stopped, and her face softened. Her eyes fell to his wound. "Here," she said, leaning over towards him. "Let me see that."

He slapped her hand away. "Leave it out, love," he growled. "Feeling a little down, are you? Thought you might give yourself a boost by being helpful?"

She looked at him, her eyes wide. "No," she said softly. "Just let me see it."

The Shadow Lord hesitated a moment longer. Then, seeing the tenderness in her expression, he relented with a nod. She smiled, then busied herself with the wound. Link gazed at her, and found his heart thudding. She was a little too close to him here. He could see the long strands of her hair, could smell the flowery scent of her perfume. Her face was creased with concentration, her touch gentle.

"Navi," Zelda called, without looking up. "A little light, please." The fairy duly complied, slowly descending to hover above Link's arms. The little woman looked at the Shadow Lord, then started furiously gesturing with her head. Link got the message.

"So," he said. "Married, eh?" The word felt strange on his tongue and, though his heart responded with a thrill, he just found the whole thing too bizarre. "How'd that happen?"

Still not bothering to look up, Zelda tore a strip from her dress, then began to wind it around his wound. "I was just a little girl. You'd just come back from that other timeline. I was smitten, stupid. As a Princess, I thought I could do anything. So I decreed that we'd be married." She sighed. "My father thought it was a splendid idea, even had a ring made. Said that as soon as we both came of age, it would be official."

"I don't remember any of this."

A shadow of sadness fell across the Princess' face. "Some crazy wizard thought he could take over Hyrule by hitting my father and myself with memory charms."

Link digested the information. "Not a very smart plan. Everyone else would have remembered who you were."

Zelda glanced up at him and smiled. "I said he was crazy, didn't I?" Her smile became a grin. For a moment, Link was lost. Everything he knew about her – her kindness, her gentle manner, her very _being_ – all of it seemed to be poured into that smile, and moreover, seemed to dance in her eyes, burning with an almost dazzling light. Despite the long scar down her face, the Shadow Lord could almost imagine that she was beautiful once again. Almost.

"So," he went on, blinking, "what happened next?"

"There," Zelda said, tightening the bandage. "Finished." She leaned back. "You stopped him. He tried to hit us with the charm, and you threw yourself into its path." Her expression grew distant. "When you awoke it seemed you'd lost all your memories. Well, not all – you'd forgotten everything you'd experienced from the very point you returned to this time. We decided, my father and myself, that since I'd sent you back here so you could relive your childhood that it wouldn't be fair of us to remind you of…ah…us." She tilted her head slightly. "Well, me. Since you'd probably try to play the hero all over again." She paused for a heartbeat. "So, I left you. And tried not to contact you in any way. I did watch you, though. For a long time, I watched you. I was pleased for you. I saw how you were gaining prominence in the court, saw how you were becoming so astute in politics." Her eyes met his, and he held her gaze. "Saw how you were becoming a completely different person."

The Shadow Lord lowered his eyes, his mind and heart crowded with conflicting thoughts and feelings. He tried desperately to make some sort of sense of what she'd just said, but found that he couldn't. For the second time this day, he was forced to admit that he might have been wrong about a lot of things – matters related to Zelda and himself, that is. As her words tumbled in his mind, a sudden shock of realisation made him glance up again. "Wait," he said. "You said…this marriage thing…happened…_after_ you sent me back?"

Zelda gave him a quizzical look. "Yes, after. When you returned as a boy."

"So…you…wanted this to happen…after I came back…"

Her frown deepened. "That's what I said." She blinked. "I don't understand, what's the problem?"

Link shook his head. "Nothing." He gave a small laugh. For some reason he felt as though a knot had been untied in his heart, an overwhelming sense of well-being flooding his soul like the breaking of a dam. "I guess I misjudged you, love. I'm sorry."

Now it was Zelda's turn to look as though she'd just had a tremendous burden lifted from her. "Don't fret over it."

The Shadow Lord was distracted by a soft sound, like the bubbling of a spring. He glanced in its direction. "Navi," he said. "Stop sniffling."

"Hey," she replied, wiping away a tear. "Sorry!"

"So," Link said, swinging back around to face the Princess. "All we have to do now is," he looked up, "is…" The Shadow Lord's mouth fell open, his whole body radiating with shock.

"What is it?" Zelda said, moving to glance over her shoulder.

"No!" Link cried. When he spoke again, it was from the corner of his mouth. "Don't move. Don't…make…any…sudden…movements." His chest felt tight, as though it were being crushed by a giant fist, and cold sweat sprang up on his skin. The wind blew against it, made it tingle.

"What's happening?" the Princess breathed. "Is it the Darknut?"

Slowly the Shadow Lord shook his head. His teeth began to chatter as he surveyed the horror moving towards them. "Something worse," he gasped. "Something far worse. Oh, by all that is holy, I'd rather face a horde of Ganons than this."

They were coming closer now, tightly packed like a well-oiled army. They marched onwards, their eyes narrowed, gleaming with murderous intent.

"Zelda, Navi," the Shadow Lord whispered. "When I say 'run', you all make a dash for safety, and just pray – _pray_ – that we come out of this alive."

The Princess' broken face wore a mask of sheer terror. "But what _is _it?"

Trembling, Link began to ready himself to move, the muscles in his legs tensing. They were a shadow moving across the land now – and they'd all honed in on the three friends. This was far, far worse than losing his hat.

"What is it?" he whispered as he curled his hand around Zelda's wrist. "_Cuccos!_" He yanked her to her feet, turned, then began to sprint, Navi screaming through the air ahead of them. "_Run! Run for your lives!_"


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"You have a…" Zelda's voice, echoing in the small cavern, trailed off as she struggled to find the appropriate words. Above them she could hear the dull rumble of a thousand tiny feet stomping against the ground. Somewhere nearby water dropped into unseen pools, rhythmic metallic splashes sighing in the air.

Link glanced up at her, his eyes pools of blue light. "A what…?"

The Princess sat back, wrapping her arms around her legs as she knitted her fingers. "A feather up your…"

Startled, the Shadow Lord spotted the offending item and dislodged it from its hiding place. "Thanks, love."

Navi floated in the air, spilling light in her wake. She cocked her head to one side, listening. "I think they've gone."

Zelda strained to catch a hint of a sound. Nothing. "You're right." She glanced at Link. "That was very brave of you. Fighting off all those cuccos so that Navi and myself could find this cave."

"With a stick," the Shadow Lord added. "Fought them off with a stick." He held up the broken twig – he'd torn it off a tree as they'd made a dash for safety – and it hung limply in his hand, snapped almost in two. "I tell you, love, once you've looked into the eyes of a cucco, then no demon or malevolent otherworldly force will ever chill your bones again." He shook his head. "It's like staring into whirlpools of pure, undistilled darkness. There's no mercy in those eyes, love, no spark of decency or warmth or anything that would even _hint_ at a soul." The Shadow Lord took in a deep sigh. "Cuccos. Demonspawn, I tell you. Oh, yes…one minute they're all fluffy and sweet and cluck-cluck-cluck, wouldn't hurt a fly-"

"Link," Zelda said.

"- but underneath all those feathers you can hear the beating of the blackest, sickest, most twisted of hearts. Thump. Thump. Thump. Just listen – listen!"

"Link!"

"Oh, yes, love, can you hear it? There it is – there's that little voice whispering in those fluffy hearts. Listen!" Silence fell as they listened. "'Don't clucking mess with me,' that's what they're saying. 'I may look cute and fluffy on the outside, but I know that I clucking rule this clucking world and if you even _glance_ at my feed, you'll clucking taste the full power of my foul wrath.'"

"Don't you mean, 'fowl wrath?'" Navi piped in, tittering. "Surely, they're no match for you with their…ah…poultry skills, are they, Link?" She giggled some more.

The Shadow Lord, his eyes narrowed to slits, stared at the floating fairy. "Navi, love."

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

"_Link._" Zelda tried again. "Like I said, thank you for protecting us." She felt something warm blossom in her heart as she spoke. "It was very heroic of you."

The Shadow Lord scowled. "Wasn't for you," he said. "Just that _I_ needed a place to hide and _you_ were the only ones who could find it for me."

The Princess cocked an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Right." Her voice was hollow in the enclosed space, her words as though lined with an edge of copper. She stood, the warmth rushing back into her stiff limbs, and brushed herself down. "We should get going. It may be safer if we explore deeper into this – what are you _doing?_"

Link knelt on the floor, head bowed, eyes closed and hands clasped. "We are gathered here today," he intoned. "To mark the passing of a dear, departed Green Hat." He wiped away a tear. "It was…the most cherished of all companions-"

Zelda sighed. "This really isn't the time, Link."

"Quiet, love," the Shadow Lord replied. "Spiritual moment, innit." He cleared his throat and carried on. "A companion who shared all manner of dangers with its host, exalting in his adventures, spurring him on in his battles, comforting him in his deepest loneliness. Fare thee well, Hat. You shall be missed." Link stood, flicking a glance at the Princess. "Let's go, then."

Zelda stood her ground, folding her arms. "What's so special about that hat, anyway?"

Link brushed past her, another impatient scowl etched on his face. "When one has to carry a slingshot, hookshot, bottles and a thousand other items – not to mention Spiritual Stones for a certain Princess – then one needs a place to put them all in."

The Princess blinked. "You mean…you put them _all_ in your hat?"

Throwing her another glance, the Shadow Lord gave a short nod.

"What…even the-?"

"Yes, love."

"Surely, not the-?"

"_Yes._ That, too."

Zelda frowned. "You haven't been wearing the same hat since when you were a child, have you, Link?" The Shadow Lord slipped further into the darkness of the cavern, mumbling to himself. Zelda followed him in. "_Have_ you, Link?"

Spinning on his heels, the Shadow Lord fixed her with an irritated glare. "What if I have, love?" he barked, his voice ringing off of the walls. "What's it matter? Let's just get out of this place and go home, innit?"

Falling into silence the Princess walked on, the darkness wrapping around her like a cloak, pierced as usual by Navi's glow. The going was rough, the ground under their feet rocky and misshapen. Spikes of slippery, wet, granite teeth leered out from the walls, and they had to duck to avoid being struck. Striding on with a steely heart, Zelda again found her musings centred on Link. She was, she had to admit, a tad surprised that the 'Hero of Time' had fought so ferociously to defend his two friends. Once more, she found it difficult to ascertain the Shadow Lord's true personality.

"You know," she said, more to give words to her thoughts rather than to break the silence. "Once we're free of all this, once we're home, I can ask my father to annul the marriage." Did she just see Link's shoulders stiffen imperceptibly or was it merely her imagination? "I'm sure we can talk him into it. After all," and now her voice took on a cautious edge, "there's no point continuing in something we both don't want. Especially as we have so little in common."

To the Zelda's surprise, it was Navi who replied, the fairy darting in between the two of them, her sharp radiance making them both squint. "Hey!" she trilled. "Listen! I can't believe the two of you! You're so…so…" Her face scrunched up as frustration bubbled through her tiny form. "So much like children!" Navi began zipping from side to side in frantic movements. "Nothing in common? Nothing in common?! What a gob of –" She stopped herself in time. "Listen! You both, whether you admit it or not, you both spend all your time trying to do what's best for everybody. Yes, both of you! The only difference between the two of you is that you use different methods to get what you want!" She was out of breath already. "Well, hey! Listen! Maybe, _maybe,_ you both would have a better chance in helping everyone if you'd just combine your efforts!" Turning away, Navi floated off slowly, mumbling under her breath. "Actually, forget it. Don't listen to me. No, don't. Honestly, the way the two of you talk to each other is it any surprise that you're married…?"

Zelda watched the glowing orb fade into the shadows. "Well," she said, addressing Link. "That was…different."

The Shadow Lord shook his head. "I know!" he gasped. "That's the first time she's ever told me not to listen to her!" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Maybe it's that _special _time in her fairy life, you know." He winked. "_You know._"

The Princess had no idea what he was talking about. "I didn't mean that. I meant-" Link was still winking at her in a conspiratorial manner. "Oh, never mind."

The faint sound of weeping floated towards them. Zelda looked at Link. The Shadow Lord shrugged. "Navi, love," he said, striding towards the source of the sound. "We didn't mean-"

But it wasn't Navi. Sitting on a boulder, the stem of a rose running between his fingers, they found a Hylian man, armed with a sword, and sniffling slightly to himself in the shadowy darkness. "Oh, woe is me," he sighed. "Where is she…? Where is my love?"

The man didn't seem to notice the newcomers. Link, his eyes wary, stood off to one side while Zelda approached the Hylian with tentative steps. Navi flew out from a dark corner to join her friends. Stopping short in front of him, the Princess asked gently, "Is anything the matter?"

The man's head snapped up, his mouth shaping an 'O'. "Who?" he asked, startled. "Oh…I'm sorry. I didn't realise. You must think me such a fool." Something tinkled in the near darkness and Zelda saw keys dangling from the man's belt. "It's just…" he went on. "It's just that I don't know where she is. My heart aches for her – and all the sacrifices we made! But here I am, stuck as a warden."

Zelda pursed her lips together. "You're not making much sense, friend," she said. "Could you explain? Perhaps if we introduce ourselves – my name is Zelda. My companion is Link, and the fairy is named Navi."

The man, his face a mask of misery, hung his head and sighed. "I'm just a poor man named Peotr." He sighed again. Out of the corner of her eye, Zelda saw Link and Navi exchange glances. "While travelling from my village, I met the most wonderful, beautiful and scintillating creature in the whole world. Cassindra! Captivated, I was. Captivated!" His eyes grew wide. "I was intoxicated by her love. Nothing in this world could make my heart come to life more than her presence."

Smiling at his heartfelt words, Zelda asked, "What happened?"

Peotr's face grew dark. "Her father, that's what happened." Bitterness burned into his words. "Her father wouldn't let me marry her. Said I was too poor and lowly!" Peotr's hands curled into fists. A strange dreamlike expression fell across his face. "But it didn't matter…we ran away!" A trembling laugh flew from his lips. "We cut up one of the farm animals…smeared Cassindra's bed with blood, then hid away on one of the Trader Carts. Ha! Fools couldn't tell the difference between an animal and a girl…we could hear them wailing as they rode off. Didn't matter, though…so long as we were united in our love."

"Awfully considerate of you," Link said, leaning back against one of the rocky walls.

Both Zelda and Peotr looked up. "What?" the man asked.

"Killing an animal. Putting all those people in distress…must be nice to get what you want by breaking everything else in your path." The Shadow Lord sniffed, a dismissive gesture. "If you get my meaning, mate."

Peotr, his face flushed, bristled with anger. "It wasn't like that!" he choked. "We didn't mean to hurt anyone! We were in love!"

Link gazed idly at his fingers. "Is that so, mate?"

"Ssshh," Zelda soothed, throwing the Shadow Lord a warning glance. "Then what happened? Where is Cassindra?"

"Oh!" Peotr moaned. "Oh, woe is me! The sadness! The pain! Woe! The sheer pain!"

"You said it, mate," the Shadow Lord piped in. "My ears can't take it anymore. Mind toning it down a little?"

Both the Princess and heartsick young man glared at the Hero. Peotr turned to Zelda. "We were separated," he breathed. "While trying to navigate through the Forest That Suffers No Fools."

"Think the trees were trying to tell you something there, mate."

Peotr ignored the jibe. "I searched for her…searched and searched, my heart bursting with terror and pain, like lead on my soul."

"Do you talk like this to everybody, sunshine?" the Shadow Lord asked. "I'm just wondering, like. Maybe your family weren't wailing because they thought you were dead….maybe they were celebrating because they didn't have to listen to your whining." His voice dropped as he added, "If I'd been rid of him, I'd have declared everyday a national holiday."

"The mist!" Peotr went on. "The mist was so thick…I couldn't see anything. And then – the Royal army found me! Took me in, they did…I had to help them fight in the war – and now! Now I watch over our captives as the others work. Watch…and wait. Wait for my Cassindra." He sighed yet again. "Though without her, I'm worthless. I'm nothing more than a dark pit sucking the life from everything around it."

"Well, at least you're honest, eh, mate?" the Shadow Lord said, grinning. "Worthless without her, hmm? Feel like half a man, do you?"

"That's right," Peotr said coldly.

Link peeled himself off the wall and strode forward, his ever-familiar grin returning. "So in other words, sunshine. You don't love her because of her. You love her because of the way she makes _you_ feel. That ain't love, mate…that's narrcississ…narcississsiiss…nar- that's when you're in love with yourself, mate."

"How dare you!" Peotr bellowed, his temples throbbing with anger. "What would one such as yourself know of the mystical ways of love? How would you know what Cassindra needs? What I need?"

"A good slap from the sounds of things."

Peotr favoured Link with an expression of extreme distaste. "Like I said, you know nothing of love."

The Shadow Lord's grin stayed in place. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Somehow I always thought it's when you accept another person just as they are. That you care about them no matter how much they annoy you. That you hope that they're happy, not how much they help you to justify your own existence. Not very exciting and romantic, I know, but a whole lot more sensible."

Peotr lapsed into silence. So did Zelda – hers was more from a radiating sense of shock. She didn't realise that Link had dwelt so much on the subject. More water dropped in an unseen part of the cave, a ghostly sound that somehow made the Princess' hair stand on end.

"So," Link said, bringing his palms together. The sudden lull seemed to have made him nervous. "You were saying something about a 'war' and some 'captives'?"

Nodding, Peotr stumbled to his feet, Zelda helping him to steady himself. "I'll show you," he muttered. He led them down a dim tunnel, the walls here glittering with some sort of reflective mineral embedded into the rock. "Here in the Far Continent – as you most likely know – the two tribes of the Rowz and Khadraj have been forever entwined in a bloodthirsty war. Terrible, it's been, terrible. Murder, rape, pillage – all these backward people know are how to feast on the other's flesh. We, from back home, decided to put an end to their tyranny. And so we fought them both. And we won."

Zelda's face brightened. "That's very noble of your people."

Peotr frowned, confused. "Our people. Surely you've heard of the Narrowing War?"

Clearing her throat, the Princess realised her mistake. They were strangers here in this land, but they didn't need to attract attention to themselves. "Of course. But I was just saying…it was a noble aim."

Nodding, satisfied with her reply, Peotr went on. "Yes, truly. A heroic battle it was. At least their evil has been vanquished."

The tunnel opened out into a larger cavern, the darkness banished by smudged lights peeking out from oil stained lanterns. A blanket of glitter covered everything, twinkling in their eyes. Heat washed over them, and the sounds of metal clanking against rock rang out in the air. Glancing up, Zelda could see other Hylians – or whatever race they passed for here – working busily against the rocky walls, their axes smashing against the minerals in flashes of glinted light, rock chips spinning from each blow.

"Here they are," Peotr said, his voice unable to mask his distaste. "The last remains of the two tribes, here in this cell. We had to…ah…neutralise the rest. For their own safety, of course."

Zelda peered into the cell they'd stopped in front of. Sad, weary eyes stared back. Covered in rags, the stench of filth wafting through the air, the prisoners huddled together in defiant silence. Children, some wailing, some gazing with bright, wide eyes, crawled over disease-ridden limbs. She could see that the two tribes were separated, sitting on either side of the cramped quarters. The Princess had to steel her heart from the sight. Cleary, appearances were deceiving. These were evil people. They deserved to be caged like this.

"What," Link asked, "exactly are your people digging for?" Zelda glanced at him, noticed that his brow was furrowed, as though deep in thought. It only occurred to her just then that the Shadow Lord had made no comment during Peotr's little explanation. She found that strange.

Peotr laughed, his voice edged with anxiety. "Oh, nothing. Just a little mineral. Nothing to worry about."

The Shadow Lord's face took on a dark cloak, his eyes thinning. He tilted his head to one side. "The mineral was here before?"

"Well, yes." Peotr looked flustered now. "It was always here. Not that that matters."

Link stepped up to him, until they were side by side. "Whose mineral is it?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"It belongs to nobody." Again the jailer looked distinctly uncomfortable. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the clanging din of the digging. "Well, no, at the moment it belongs to us."

"Whose?" Link insisted

"Ours," said one prisoner, his voice sour. Thin eyes stared out from a gaunt, dirt covered face.

"Both of ours," said someone from the other tribe. A knot of hatred blazed in this one's eyes.

"Ah hahaha," Peotr said nervously. "Matters not. Their evil had to stopped that's all. Their minerals - well, yes, we were aware of them for a long time - but they were just icing on the cake."

Zelda stopped short. "No..." Realisation flooded her heart, and it horrified her. "You wanted the minerals all along. All this talk of stopping evil...doing good...it was just words to cover your real intentions."

The jailer bristled. "To the victor the spoils," he snapped. "No harm has been done."

The Princess gaped, seeing the prisoners in a different light - their squalor, their misery, the defiance in their eyes. "No harm...?" she gasped. "You've robbed these people of their freedom and stole their resources!"

"Because," Peotr countered, annoyed. "It was the right thing to do. We stopped them from killing each other."

"And, instead," Link added, his voice quiet. "You've decided to give them a slow death instead."

"We feed them," the jailer said. "They're looked after, to a degree. They just can't do any harm here."

"You mean," Zelda cut in. "They can't stop you while you take their precious minerals. And all the while you convince yourselves that you're doing something noble!"

"We are!" the jailer shouted. He pressed his arms against his sides as his fury grew. "You didn't see their savagery! You didn't see their barbaric natures!"

"All I see," the Princess cut in, seething. "Is one evil exchanged for another."

There was a slice of metal and the thin rattle of keys. Peotr glanced down in shock to find that he'd been stripped of both his blade and his keys. Link, grin firmly in place, held the point of the sword to the man's throat, then threw the keys towards Zelda. "Your call, love."

"You can't let them free!" Peotr fumed, his eyes glancing at the blade. "It would be inhumane!"

"You can't let us stay, pretty scar," one prisoner cooed. "That'd be even more inhumane."

Zelda stared at the keys. Her fingers curled around the cold metal, her hand trembling. She felt sweat – cold, like ice – blossom on her neck.

"They'll just keep on slaughtering each other!" Peotr cried. His own sweat dripped from his brow. There was a sickly screech of metal from somewhere above, but none of them took any notice, so engrossed were they in their own situation. "We stopped them, don't you understand, we stopped them!"

"Let us decide our own futures," another prisoner said. They were shuffling now, their chains clanking. They slipped through the dirt as they watched with eager interest. Children fell into silence. Women bit their lips. Men tensed. "Without interference from the likes of him. And without having our land stripped bare."

Zelda grit her teeth. The keys shook in her hand, her sweat mixing with the steel to concoct a metallic tang that hung in the air.

"You'll be responsible for the murder of hundreds, if not thousands!" Peotr bellowed. The other workers were finally looking up now, and Zelda knew that she only had seconds to make a decision.

"You'll be responsible for the oppression of hundreds, if not thousands if you let us stay," the prisoner said. "We'd rather die than live under their heel."

The Princess let her mind go blank. As though terrified that she'd change her mind, she thrust the key into the lock, then turned it until it snapped. The door swung open, and the prisoners surged forward. Some of them whispered thanks as they passed, some touched her gratefully on the hand.

"Now you're learning, love," Link said under his breath.

"NO!" Peotr lunged for the Princess, his hands aiming for her throat. A blade swung up to block his path. He seethed as the Shadow Lord grinned back at him.

"Hey!" said Navi, hovering above Link's shoulder, arms crossed and wearing a stern expression.

The Shadow Lord winked. "Hands off the wife, mate." He motioned to his two companions. "Now, if you'll be excusing us, we'll be taking our leave." He winked again. "Thanks very much for the sword!"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

They ran.

They had little choice not to. As soon as the prisoners poured out of their cells, the digger-soldiers were alerted to their presence, their heads raising from their tasks, eyes growing wide as they realised something was amiss. Chaos followed. The sheer, seething mass of soldiers smashed into the rush of oncoming prisoners, fists flying, axes flashing in the twinkling light. Zelda, Navi and Link took advantage of the din, ducking into the artificial passageways that crisscrossed the cavern, built deep into the mineral encrusted rock. Their sloping path took one jagged turn after the other, their boots splashing in the murky water leaking onto the floor. Steam flew out of fissures in the wall, mixing with the glowing mineral to spray the trio with droplets of sparkling rain, like a mist of incandescent stars.

Zelda stumbled and slid on the uneven path, her chest tight, her breath run ragged. Daggers of rock sprouted from the ground, making it difficult for her to keep balance. She'd already slipped twice, her ankle swollen as a result. The world bounced in her line of sight, and the only thing she could do to keep up with her two friends was to keep her eyes fixed firmly on Navi's floating glow of light. They took another corner, another blast of heat smothering her face as steam hissed, then yet another corner. A pair of wet snaps brought the group to a halt. The darkness above them flickered, then, as though pouring out of the ceiling like dark liquid, two men – from the same race as Peotr and the soldiers, Zelda noticed - dropped to the ground in a crouch, faces half-covered with scarlet bandanas, swords at the ready.

The Princess saw Link tense beside her. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his wrist. He inclined his head slightly, his still eyes still on the newcomers. "Remember," she whispered under her breath. "A peaceful resolution is often always the best."

One of the newcomers stepped forward, his grey eyes hard. Steam hissed in the darkness behind him, echoing through the cavern like a deep sigh. "Shmalt! Shou shmalt vot parsht xshept von shain of zeth!"

A flicker of a frown crossed the Shadow Lord's face. "I'm sorry?"

The man's eyes thinned. "I shed – Shmalt! Shou smalt vot parsht xshept von shain of zeth!"

"It might help," Zelda began, a little uncertain, "if you'd remove the cloth over your mouth." She smiled, then stopped, thinking better of it.

Blinking, the man looked from the Princess to the Hero, his chest beginning to heave. Finally, with a snort of pure exasperation, he tore the bandana from his face. "I _said,_" he licked his lips, "_Halt!_ Thou shalt not pass, except on pain of death."Letting out a breath he stepped back, relief flooding his face.

"See, that's a lot better now, innit, mate?" the Shadow Lord said. "I mean, what were you thinking? – you're indoors and you're wearing a mask. How did you expect to breathe? Forward planning, mate. Learn to appreciate it."

"Yes…well." The man had the distinct look of someone who knew that control was slipping fast from his fingers. "Halt! Thou shalt not pass, except on pain of death!" Then he added for good measure, "It means you're going to _die_."

"I'd really rather we didn't, mate, if it's all the same to you. Things to do, cities to liberate, you know how it is." Link smiled, nodding. "Thanks."

Zelda could see the man's pulse throbbing in both his neck and temple. All of a sudden, he looked rather pale. He spoke again, his voice betraying the hint of a tremor. "Listen, we can let _you_ go," he nodded at the Shadow Lord, "if you'd just let us take the woman."

The Princess felt something sour curdle in the pit of her stomach. The muscles in her face stiffened as her eyes thinned to slits, anger smouldering in her heart. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw Link coolly scan the area ahead of him, his face creased in thought, then he quickly threw a surreptitious glance over his shoulder, calculating once again. Cast-iron certainty took root in Zelda's heart – her Hero was planning their escape. She grinned in anticipation.

The Shadow Lord stepped forward, grin firmly in place. "Alright, mates," he said with a short nod. "She's all yours."

Zelda joy evaporated, her mouth dropping open. "_What?_"

Flinching from her reaction, Link stared back at her, genuine hurt etched on his face. "_You_ said I should go for the most peaceful resolution!"

She seethed, her hands balling into fists. "But not at _my_ expense!"

"Ah ha!" he crowed, pointing. "So you admit it! You _do _do things for selfish reasons."

Zelda's jaws worked, but she was still too stunned to let her tongue form the words rolling around her mind. "I thought we'd –" She stopped, turned to their two attackers, and flashed them a sweet smile. "Excuse us one moment." The two men glanced at each other uncertainly as Zelda stepped around to face Link, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I thought we'd come to an understanding."

Link looked surprised. "We did?"

"_Yes_," she whispered. "That's why I've been treating you a lot better."

Link looked even more surprised. "You have?"

A feral growl burst from the Princess' lips. "_Link!_"

Holding up his hands, the Shadow Lord stepped past her. "Al_right,_ love." Sighing theatrically, Link smiled at the two men. "Gentlemen, it looks like we're going to have to settle this man-to-man, blade-to-blade after all. No doubt, the losing party will be sent back home in various pieces, their loved ones' hearts shattered from the knowledge that they suffered such meaningless deaths due to the – wait, why _are_ you doing this?"

"We're raiders, friend," the man growled. His hand gripped his sword, his knuckles turning white. "We stalk these here passageways, preying on the unwary traveller."

Raising an eyebrow, Link asked, "Get an awful lot of a people strolling down these paths, do you?"

The raider shifted uncomfortably. "Well…"

"Exactly how much booty have you looted since you started this spirited enterprise of yours?"

A muscle in the man's cheek twitched. He mumbled his reply.

Link tilted his head to one side. "Didn't quite catch that, mate."

The raider let out a breath through pursed lips. "You're actually the first ones."

"I admire the pioneering fire in your heart," said Link, "even if I'm not quite partial to your methods, and I hate to repeat myself but: preplanning is your friend."

"Enough of this nonsense!" the raider snarled, bringing his blade to bear. "It's time you had that babbling tongue of yours cut straight from your mouth."

No one had a chance to respond, though, as the ground shook slightly, a rhythmic hollow clanking ringing in the air. Link glanced at Zelda and Navi, confusion creasing their features. The two raiders trembled, their eyes enlarging. "It's the boss!" they whispered.

A horrific voice, like rusted gears grinding against each other, boomed out from the shadows. "Let me handle this."

Link shifted his footing, Peotr's sword swinging into position, a line of reflected light running down the edge of the blade. He peered ahead, trying to make out the shape of the newcomer. When he did reveal himself, the Shadow Lord's eyes flared, liquid steel flowing through his veins. "You!" he spat. "Murderer!"

The raiders scattered as the Darknut dragged itself into the light. With a resounding _clang_, a blade slid out from a compartment on the creature's armour.

"You and me, mate," Link hissed. "Let's finish it here. Now. Your reign of terror's about to end, sunshine, and if you'd just permit me to be a tad melodramatic, you're about to feel my vengeful wrath."

The Darknut chuckled. "For the Darkness."

Link chopped air as he twirled his sword. "For the Hat."

With a roar, the Darknut sliced the air in a surprisingly swift arc, his joints whirring and clicking. One foot jammed into the ground for balance, the Shadow Lord spun his sword up to meet the attack. Sparks exploded as the two blades crashed into the other. Link rocked back on his heel, sliding his sword free, then whirled around, the sharp edge of his blade tearing towards the Darknut's flank. The creature was too quick – a far cry from their first encounter – parrying easily. Riding with the momentum, the wind chilling the sweat on his skin, the Shadow Lord spun completely around on his foot, his sword flying around for another slice. More sparks, fiery drops of crimson fire, illuminated the passageway as the Darknut blocked again.

Link went high; the creature parried. Grit flying from under his boots, the Shadow Lord dropped to his knees and sliced low. His sword flashed momentarily as it caught the light from the twinkling minerals, his mouth flooding with salty expectation as he saw the sharp line of the blade scream in towards the Darknut's legs. The creature ploughed his weapon into the ground to block, steel clanging against steel, a fountain of spinning sparks pluming out from the blow.

"Hey!" Navi called as she shot up to the ceiling. "Listen! The Darknut is covered in armour, but some parts are exposed – those are his weak points!"

"Navi, love," Link called, his throat tight as he flipped away from a dangerous thrust. "You're a wonderful girl and everything, but telling me the obvious during a battle isn't really helping much."

The Darknut went on the attack again, slicing in towards Link's head. The Shadow Lord ducked, felt the breath of slit air on his neck, then saw the creature's blade careen into the wall, sending splinters of rock flying. Link stumbled back, noticing that the Darknut was momentarily stuck. With a tug, the creature pulled itself free, but in that moment, the Shadow Lord's eyes narrowed, a grin slowly forming on his lips.

"Mate," he called, swaggering as he readied his limbs. "You're not even trying!"

It worked. Snarling, the Darknut swung again, an exact replica of his last attack, and once again Link ducked, watching the creature's sword jam itself into the wall. In that heartbeat of silence, the Shadow Lord moved. He leapt, landed on the Darknut's stuck arm, then leapt again, landing on the other side. Spinning around, Link brought his sword to bear, then thrust it straight through the Darknut's back.

An otherworldly howl exploded from the Darknut's mouth. Energy crackled and spat, a waterfall of sparks running down the length of the creature's body. Its eyes flared red, then vanished into darkness as it slumped to ground.

"Just a machine," Link mumbled as he walked up to it and pulled his sword free. "Wasn't even alive." He kicked it. "That's for my hat." He kicked it again. "And that's for causing me deep distress." He stepped back, thought things through, then ploughed his blade into the Darknut's twitching corpse once again. "And that's for my hat again!"

"Link," Zelda said softly. "I think he's dead."

"Can't be too careful, love," the Shadow Lord replied. "You never know when a completely and utterly defeated enemy will resurrect itself into a pig-like creature in the most coincidental of manners." He glanced around, sniffing. "Where are the others?"

"Hey!" Navi said. "They ran for it! Cowards."

"Indeed," the Shadow Lord said, looking up at the floating fairy. "Thanks for your advice, love. It helped. No, it did. No, really. Don't know what I would have done without you. No, _really._"

The fairy, arms crossed, spun around in mid-air with a decisive, "Hmph!"

The Princess wrapped her arms around herself. "Now where do we –"

The floor vanished beneath them.

Screaming, the three friends tumbled down a darkened shaft, the air howling past their ears. With an cold splash that shocked their skin, they landed in an underground stream, the current instantly pulling them downriver, under stalactite arches, through narrow lime encrusted passageways, until finally they were dumped in a large lake, frothy with foam, enclosed in an immense artificial chamber. They dragged themselves from the water, their clothes heavy with damp, their hair dripping.

Zelda rubbed the moisture from her eyes as she stood. There was a mirror in the room, framed in a light that apparently had no source, the crystal like reflective surface glinting. Her eyes caught the hint of movement, and she saw a small creature perched in the shadows. As Link and Navi drew level with her, she frowned, then asked, "Who's there?"

Beside her she heard Link start to mutter to himself. "Please-not-the-owl…please-not-the-owl…please-not-the-owl."

There was a flap of wings and Kaepora Gaebora swooped into sight, his plump form fluttering.

"Awww, _mate,_" Link moaned quietly, wincing. "_Why_ the _owl_?"

Zelda stepped forward, head bowed, hand on her chest. "Greetings, Sage," she said.

Kaepora landed in front of them, cocking his head to one side. The reflected waves of the lake shimmered on his wizened face. "Greetings to you, Sage of Wisdom."

The Shadow Lord was still busy holding a quiet conversation with himself. "Isn't anyone going to ask how he managed to get here? Isn't anyone wondering why an owl is living in an underground cavern? Can anyone hear me? Hello? Hello?"

Zelda smiled. "It's so refreshing to meet a familiar face."

"I am sure," Kaepora replied, his long ears twitching. "You've managed to find yourself in the most strangest of lands, haven't you?"

"So has he!" Link whispered. "Am I the only one who sees this? Why am I talking to myself?"

The Princess nodded. "It's true…the place seems so familiar, and yet so different." She smiled again. "I hope you can enlighten us."

"Indeed I can," Kaepora replied, turning to the mirror. "I have with me the secrets of all things."

"Ooooh '_indeed I can_.'" Link muttered under his breath. "_'The secrets to all things_.' Pompous little bird. Has all these secrets, but didn't see him going off to fight Ganondorf now, did we? Noooo…he sits on his perch, licking his feathers and thinking he sounds oh-so-mysterious by hooting like a demented duck on Red Potion."

Kaepora stretched his wings. "Behold!" The reflection in the mirror shimmered, the light whirling. "There is not just one world with a Link and a Zelda, you see. Not just one world with one Kaepora Gaebora. No…in reality there a million different worlds, each with a Link and a Zelda. Each with a Kaepora Gaebora. A millions Links. A million Zeldas." He flicked a knowing glance towards the Hero of Time. "A million Kaeporas."

"Just give me my sword and stab me now," the Shadow Lord mumbled.

"This is one such world," the Sage went on. "Where things are paralleled, but not exactly the same. You entered through the portal – each world has its own. You must travel through the portals until you reach home."

Zelda sighed, shaking her head. "We don't have time to search for these portals, let alone travel through them all. Our friends in danger."

"Worry not," Kaepora replied. "When you return it will be at the exact moment that you left. The passage of time will not have moved an inch. Then, you and the Hero can set things to right in your world. Is that not right, Hero?"

They all turned to Link. The Shadow Lord was deep in thought, rubbing his chin as he ruminated in a soft voice. "If I could just a slip a cucco into the owl's nest when he's not-" He looked up, startled. "I'm terribly sorry, you were saying?"

The Princess turned back to the Sage. "Are all these worlds similar?"

Nodding, Kaepora said, "To a degree. For example, in one world, the Gate to the Sacred Realm can only be opened by the slaughter of the Key, a female born to do destiny's bidding. The cataclysm can be stopped, though, by the sacrifice of the Counter-Key - your friend Malon. In that same world, some five hundred years later, it is revealed that Cycle of good and evil can only be undone with the death of that world's Zelda, and only at Link's hands."

"If I had the misfortune to be a woman in that world," the Shadow Lord said, speaking normally. "I'd be constantly looking over me shoulder. Someone either wants to sacrifice me to destroy the world, or wants to kill me to save it."

Zelda gave him an odd look. "If you were a woman, Link, I'd be worried."

The Hero scowled. "You _are_ worried."

"Why?" the Princess retorted, a thin smile growing to match her narrowed eyes. "Because you _are_ a woman?"

The Shadow Lord opened his mouth to reply, frowned, then snapped his jaws shut, scowling once more.

"That's not all," Kaepora said, his expression grave. "Behold!"

They peered into the mirror, the swirling light forming into the familiar shapes of Link and Zelda – only this time they were from another world. They sat on a field, flowers sprouting around their feet, gazing at each other.

"_Oh, darling,_" the other Zelda cooed. "_Never leave me again. Your life is the very water of life that I feed upon. Without it, my existence is a meaningless hole, my days filled with sighs eternal._"

The other Link smiled, tears glistening in his eyes. "_Never fear, my beloved. I would willingly sacrifice my life, the life of the people of Hyrule – nay, the very stuff of life itself, just to see you smile._"

The other Zelda blushed, glancing away coyly. "_It seems that, though we only spent scant hours together, that we've known each other all our lives. What a waste my life was before you entered – verily, I was better off dead. But, Link! There's something awful I must reveal to you now."_

Tension tightened the lines around the other Link's eyes. "_Speak it, my love. Together we shall banish whatever fears haunt your precious life. I shall slay them with the sword of my love, made manifest due to the sheer purity of our feelings._"

"_Oh!_" the other Zelda gasped. "_It is my father! He is trying to marry me off to a foreign prince I've known for barely an hour – that's five less than I've known you! How can he expect love to bloom? And yet…this prince is verily hot. And now I am truly torn."_

The other Link's face dropped, tears now rolling freely. _"I do not know the meaning of this term 'hot.' And yet…now my heart has sunk to the depths of despair that only the return of Ganondorf himself could summon. I feel that, rather than fight for your hand, I must depart, and wallow in my misery, perhaps only re-entering your life at the opportune moment. That being the day of your wedding."_

_"Oh!_" the other Zelda moaned. "_I await that day with barely controlled lust – erm, longing. How am I to spend my days now? Verily, I must curse my fate and forever compare this prince to you, counting down the days until-"_

The Shadow Lord, shock blossoming on his face, staggered back as the image faded, his hand clutching his chest. "_Egad!_" He slapped his forehead with the palm of his other hand. "What manner of foul place was _that, _mate" Instantly, he stood up straight, brandishing his sword. "Sage," he said, his voice grim, his face fixed with determination. "Send me to this world now." He tapped his blade. "I promise they won't feel a thing." Stepping back again, he came close to the lake - and slipped, his head cracking against the rocks.

"Link!" the Princess cried, her hand going straight to her mouth. "Are you hurt?"

The Shadow Lord sat up, a dazed expression on his face. He blinked as he tried to focus. The water lapped quietly against the shore as they all waited.

Kaepora stepped forward. "Hero. Speak to us."

Link blinked again, then stared straight at the Sage. A slow smile crossed his lips. "Look. Itsh a torking owl."

Zelda and Kaepora exchanged glances. "It appears the Hero is lost to us now," the Sage said. "I'm sure the condition is only temporary and he will return to his normal self shortly."

"Twhooo! Twhooo!" Link said, in what Zelda guessed was his imitation of a hooting owl.

"So," the Princess said. "The portal is our priority. Our only route back home."

"Twhooo!"

"Indeed," Kaepora replied. "But be warned, there's no way of knowing to which world it will take you. Usually, though, since the portals were constructed by sentient beings, it tries to take you to the closest possible point to the place you wish to go. It may not always succeed, however, and-"

"Twhooo!"

"- you know, I find that highly offensive." Kaepora stared at Link. The Shadow Lord stared back. The air between them seemed to burn. They held each other's gazes, not even blinking, until Link finally said, "Poor likkle owl."

The Princess stepped in. "So I take it," she said, "we'll have to traverse over dangerous territory, fight off vicious enemies, and risk life and limb just to find this first portal that may or may not take us home?"

"No," replied the Sage. "It's right over there." He gestured with one wing and, with a crack and a hiss, a wall opened to reveal the glowing waves of light of an interdimensional portal. "Fare thee well, Princess," he nodded at her, "Fairy," he motioned at Navi, "Hero," and here they all turned to Link.

"I luv you, owl," the Shadow Lord said. "I jusht wanted you to know that."

The Princess set her eyes on the portal. This was going to be a long voyage home. "Navi, Link," she called. "It's time to go."


	15. Book II Chapter 1

Book II

Chapter 1

Kerric Devrinman awoke to the rhythmic chime of ringing bells, a sound that always made him think of metal bars tumbling down a flight of stairs. He sat up, his back stiff from the wooden floor, and blinked the gumminess from his eyes. Sniffing, the familiar tang of musty air assaulted his senses, a cocktail of earth and sawdust that tickled his nose. All was still in the windmill, all was safe. His lip curled at the thought. No…not safe, never safe. But then, today was the day he was going to change that. A surge of determination brought him to full wakefulness.

Glancing over to the far side of the near-barren room, Kerric saw the slender form of his twin sister, Raenie. Her eyes were closed, her chest rising and falling. He envied her sense of peace, wondered at the fact that she could still manage to sleep through the din of the bells. Standing, he tip-toed over to her, the cold floor tingling his bare feet. A slant of sparkling sunlight burst in through the solitary window, pooling onto the wood below, revealing the dust and straw strewn across the ground.

Kerric knelt, then gently shook his sister. "Raenie," he said, his voice soft. Her purple hair fell across her face as her eyelids trembled, then flew open. "I have to go. Today's the day I meet him."

"Oh," she said. Sitting up, she blinked, yawned, and then turned to face him, her face positively glowing, as though she'd been awake for hours. "Scorchin. Are you sure he even exists? Do you think he even got our message? This is exciting!" Kerric was always surprised that, despite being his exact age, his sister had managed to retain the youthful exuberance of a child, tackling each day with a neverending source of bubbling enthusiasm. It bolstered him on some days, grated on others. He saw her reach into her tunic, then pull out one of those new fangled sugar-sticks, the ones she spent all her time chewing. Popping it into her mouth, she went on, "It's the funeral today, too, isn't it? How grand!"

Kerric twitched. "Funerals are not grand."

"Yes, I know, I know," she said, smiling. "But this one will be. Because, _everyone_ will be there, _everyone._ It's going to be _so_ scorchin."

Pursing his lips, Kerric wasn't exactly sure how to react to her zeal. Time was short, though, and he'd have to dwell on this some other time. "You can go to the funeral, Raenie. But come straight back here, afterwards." He tried to add a touch of steel to his voice. "No dilly-dallying with your friend."

Raising her chin, she gave him a mock-salute. "No dillying, and certainly no dallying. Yes, sir!" She smiled again. "Do you think he'll come? It'll be so scorchin if he did. He's like a legend with my friends; they'll be so scorched if they knew. Then we'd finally be able to get to Spinster Jardel. That'd be _so_ exciting."

"He'll come," Kerric said, standing. "We have something he wants." He turned to leave, and then paused, adding, "And I don't think it's wise to mention this to your friends."

It didn't take him to long to get dressed, and as he left the mill, he was greeted with the sweet scent of rotted fruit and the murmured chatter of the townsfolk. The bells had long since stopped their ringing, and the sails of the mill sighed through the air, creaking as sunlight blinked behind them. They'd hidden out in the windmill for months, tired from being pursued, their hearts raw with hurt. No one had bothered them. No one had even questioned their presence. Kerric followed the river into Garizon Town Square, watched as the thick water sloshed lazily under the heat of the sun, a skin of slime, debris and animal carcasses bobbing up and down on the surface. Garizon had never prided itself on its cleanliness.

Glancing up, Kerric saw the looming sight of the Iron Spike, the crooked mountain that cast its shadow over the town. Perched on the top, thin like a fingernail, sat the dark shape of Jardel Fortress. His heart caught when he saw it, and he had to look away quickly.

The Square was filling with people, streaming in from all available paths. They were dressed in black, their faces etched with lines of sorrow, their voices wailing and moaning. Kerric felt their pain, felt the salty tears come to his eyes. They'd all come to pay their respects to the Enchantress, she of the White Palace, she who had tragically died in her sleep, still in the flower of her youth. It was terrible, Kerric mused, that such a preciously kind person as the Enchantress had succumbed to death while someone as evil as Spinster Jardel still lived.

Kerric weaved his way through the throng, bumping and jostling the mourners, their cries ringing in his ears. He couldn't help but share in their grief, and when he saw one of the usually cheerful news scroll sellers gazing at the ground with shadowed eyes, Kerric almost felt his heart break.

It took him longer than usual to reach the inn. The crowd were all pushing in one direction, and he'd wanted to go another and that, coupled with the grease that stained the ground making him slip, made the usual ten minute walk take almost half an hour. Heart pounding in his chest as he stood outside the inn's door, Kerric wondered if he was too late, if the man he'd come to meet had already gone. He ran one hand through his hair, smoothed his tunic down with the other and, swallowing, he pushed the door open and entered.

The mood inside was sombre, the voices hushed. There was no singing here, no raucous laughter or witty banter. People sat around their tables, cradling their tankards, their expressions thoughtful, their eyes glistening. Kerric felt his throat tighten. He could taste their grief, and it threatened to reach deep inside his heart to pull out all his pain, too.

Kerric steeled himself. He had to say focused. Scanning the room with squinting eyes, Kerric searched for the agreed meeting point – a table on three legs, propped up by a wooden box, and surrounded only by a pair of chairs. He found it instantly. Kerric swallowed a deep breath as he saw that there was someone there, a man cloaked, a hood casting a shadow over his face. It seemed somewhat appropriate.

With trembling legs, Kerric slowly approached the table. Everything seemed too loud now – the whispers, the innkeeper's cloth as it squeaked against a shining glass, the hiss of the lamps. All of a sudden, Kerric felt that everyone was watching him – that glance there, did it linger? That flicker on a furrowed brow – did someone recognise him? It felt too hot, the air, like the atmosphere, stifling. Kerric wanted to leave, but his legs treacherously propelled him onward. His eyes saw that the table was set near the far exit – a door closed and locked. Had the man done that deliberately?

The chair scraped the ground as he pulled it out. He slid into the seat, then placed his hands on the table, the tremor in his fingers making them tap against the wood. The other man, a mug filled with sloshing liquid in his hands, said nothing. He took a sip from his drink, licked his lips, but still offered no conversation. Kerric felt a prickly sensation at the back of his neck. Was this who was looking for? His eyes darted from the table to the man, until he realised he was wasting time just sitting here. Kerric leaned forward. "Are you…" he asked softly. "Are you the Shadow Lord?"

"What if I am?" the other man replied, his eyes still hidden under his hood. "Who's asking?"

Kerric shifted in his seat. "My name is Kerric Devrinman," he said, desperately trying to keep his voice from wavering. "We agreed to meet here." A memory flashed in his mind. "In your message, you said I should sit here and say the password." Kerric had no idea what the password - more a pass 'sentence' – actually meant, but he supposed that that's probably why the Shadow Lord had chosen it. "And so here I am."

The other man tilted his head. "And the password is?"

"Owls roasting on open fire."

The Shadow Lord's mouth split into a grin. "That's it." He took another sip from his drink. "Having a good day?"

Kerric blinked. He wanted to go straight to the business, but perhaps the Shadow Lord was a foreigner – Kerric certainly couldn't place the man's accent – and perhaps he had different customs. Kerric had no choice but to play along. "Well, no, not really. It's a terrible day – the Enchantress' funeral." His gaze dropped. "It's just so sad."

"Is that so?"

"Yes." And now Kerric could feel the tears coming. He brushed them away angrily. "She was just so…wonderful. Like she wasn't from our world, you understand? Like she stood above us – beautiful, kind, noble. All the things we're not." He took in a deep breath. "It's just so sad."

The Shadow Lord began to spin his mug around on the table. "Knew her well, did you?"

Kerric blinked again. "Well, of course not. Hardly any of us did." He paused. "I never met her once."

There seemed to be a flicker of movement from under the Shadow Lord's hood. "Then what are the waterworks for, mate?"

Kerric frowned. What a strange person. He glanced around the room, saw the people, their misery tangible, their faces worn. "It's just a tragedy that's all."

"Rupee's worth of free advice, mate," the Shadow Lord said, leaning forward. "People die everyday. Don't see you mourning them now, do I?"

If it wasn't for the fact that he needed this man, Kerric would have stormed out. How could he be so callous? "Well," he blurted in response. "None of those people were as noble as she was."

"How'd you figure that?"

"If they were," Kerric said, feeling a bit more comfortable. "We would have heard about them."

"Oh?"

"Yes." Kerric nodded. "In the news scrolls. They told us everything about her life. Where she went, what she did – and more importantly, how wonderful she was." He couldn't help but add, "They told us how she managed to bring civilisation and enlightenment to those barbarian hordes across the sea. The ones with the abominable customs."

The Shadow Lord was smiling. "News scrolls?"

Kerric nodded, finding the man's attitude intolerable. A tavern boy stopped at their table, eyes wide with enthusiasm, and asking what Kerric would like to drink. He waved him away, turned to the other man, then said, "Yes. News scrolls."

"Oh, well, if it's in those, then it must be true."

Bristling, Kerric almost dug his fingernails into the wood. "What do you mean?"

The Shadow Lord leaned back in his chair. "I have those back home."

"Back home?" So he _was_ a foreigner.

"Let me ask you something, mate." The Shadow Lord took another sip. The bubbling murmur of the other patrons faded into the background. "Do you know these people who write these news scrolls? Know how trustworthy they are?"

Kerric felt his head start to pound. "Well, no…" he stammered. "But they've been to such exotic places. Reading their words is like being there myself. It's easy to see that they're telling the truth."

"Like being there yourself, is it?" Kerric hated the amusement in the man's voice. "As opposed to going there yourself and seeing if what they say is true with your own eyes?"

"Ha!" Kerric snorted. "It's dangerous to go to such places."

"Is it now?" the Shadow Lord asked. "Only because the scrolls said it was?"

"Of course!"

The Shadow Lord seemed to ponder this for a moment, then asked, "If you've not seen what they've seen, mate, and if you've not _been_ where they've been, how exactly do you know they're telling the truth?"

"Why wouldn't they?" Kerric felt his skin flush with anger. "What would stop them?"

"Oh, I can think of lots of things that could."

"Nonsense!" Kerric was desperately trying to control his breathing. There was a ripple of quiet laughter from another table. A quick glance told Kerric that it wasn't directed at them. "Besides," he went on, "everyone believes them. That's just the way it is." He folded his arms, satisfied, and tilted his chair back on to its rear legs.

"Ah, well," the Shadow Lord replied, lifting his mug once more. "Just the way it is. Can't be changed, eh, mate? Can't argue with that. No point asking questions if you let someone else do your thinking for you, innit?"

"Are you saying," Kerric said, for some reason not wanting to let this foreigner get the better of him, "that the Enchantress was not as noble as the scrolls said?"

The Shadow Lord shrugged. "Maybe she was, maybe she wasn't," he said. There were orders barked from the innkeeper ringing in the air, but Kerric was too absorbed in the conversation to pay attention. "But, unless your trying to emulate them, what's the point in trying to find out how…'noble'…so-and-so was, or what they did last week, or what they ate, or what they wore. Isn't it better, mate, to worry about whether _you_ are being the kind of person you want to be, and what you are eating, and what you're wearing. Why live through someone else, mate, unless you haven't yet found out your role in life, haven't yet found out what you need to be?" He paused for a heartbeat. "It's only someone who has no personality of his own that feels the need to be fixated with somebody else."

Kerric pushed away from the table. "I did not come for this," he said. "If you're not going to help-"

A shadow fell across the table. Kerric looked up to see a big, burly man stand over the Shadow Lord's shoulder, his skin slick with grease, one eye twitching. "I know it's you," the man growled. "Didn't I say you weren't welcome here?"

The Shadow lord grinned. "Tondial," he said. "Your table manners are as impeccable as always."

"I said," Tondial replied, gripping the back of the Shadow Lord's chair. "You're not welcome here."

"How's that?"

The big man sighed, impatient. "You're banned from this here establishment," he said, cracking his knuckles. "I know this because I did the banning meself."

Kerric swallowed as he saw the Shadow Lord's hand fall under the table, no doubt to his sword. This isn't what he wanted! He just wanted a quiet discussion! What had he gotten himself into?"

"Whenever you appear," Tondial went on. "Trouble is always lapping at your heels like a rabid, thirsty dog."

"You have such a way with words, mate," the Shadow Lord replied. "Get the maidens swooning with that, do you? Ever thought of becoming a poet? You have the complexion for it."

The big man growled. "Do not mock me."

"I was really hoping we could put the past behind us," the Shadow Lord said. "We're all grown men, after all." He flicked a glance at the quivering layers of flesh that made up Tondial's body. "Some more than others."

"Put the past behind us?" Tondial roared. Some of the other patrons glanced up and, though Kerric did not think it possible, the room became even more hushed. The big man's eyes bulged, his temple throbbing and blossoming red. "Shall I list your crimes, eh?" He paused to take a breath. "Number One. Thievery. Stealing from the Treasury."

The Shadow Lord cocked an eyebrow. "A misunderstanding," he said. "If you'd known exactly _why_ I had to-"

"Misunderstanding!" The veins in Tondial's face started to pulse. "You went in with a sword, injured the guards and the other patrons, and then left with sacks of coinage drenched in other people's blood."

Grimacing slightly, the Shadow Lord shrugged. "What can I say?" he said. "I don't like to wait, mate."

Kerric watched the exchange with interest. The Shadow Lord was as infamous as he was mysterious. He'd appeared in their town barely three months ago, or at least word of him had. It was rumoured that – if one knew how to contact him – one could hire his services, but only if your cause was just.

Tondial stamped a foot down hard, rocking chairs and sending a mug spinning into the air. "Number Two. You recklessly rode a horse into a crowded area, running down an Elder who had done you no harm!"

The Shadow Lord chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Not my bleedin fault the stupid old hag got in my way, is it?" He paused, noticing the shocked, wide-eyed stares he was getting from some people who were now eagerly listening nearby. "Besides, she wasn't hurt much." He attempted a weak smile. "Dear, sweet old..." He hesitated again, grasping for the right word. "...hag."

This, Kerric could understand. The so-called Elders were minions of Spinster Jardel, and just as twisted as their mistress. What was worse, though, was that not many people knew of this fact about the Elders. Not unless you crossed them, of course.

The big man clenched his teeth. "Number Three. You were unanimously voted as the second least most trustworthy person in the whole of Garizon." He gasped, the words coming out in a ferocious torrent. "It's said that you'd bribe your own mother if you thought there would be some profit in it."

Now Kerric could see that the Shadow Lord was somewhat offended, could see the man's face start to flush with anger. "Actually," the Shadow Lord said with the acid bite of sarcasm. "I'd like to point out that I was _the_ least most trustworthy person in the whole of Garizon." He cleared his throat. "I just bribed the fellow who came second to go top in my place." The Shadow Lord took in a deep breath. Shoulders square, smile in place, he swivelled around - and fell off his stool with a shriek.

Kerric stood hurriedly, then peered down at him. "What is it?"

The Shadow Lord, sweat sprouting on his forehead, wore a mask of sheer terror. He gestured wildly with his head. Kerric blinked, not understanding. The Shadow Lord pointed. Kerric followed his gaze. "What?" He saw nothing out of the ordinary. The big man was still standing, looking quite bemused himself, and nestled quite comfortably in the crook of his arm there was a-

"The cucco?" Kerric asked.

The Shadow Lord winced, biting his lip. "Nnnnnnn!"

"It's…just a cucco."

Springing to his feet, the Shadow Lord began jabbing his finger. "Just a cucco? Just a cucco, mate?" he seethed. "_Look_ at it."

Both Kerric and the Tondial looked. The cucco bobbed its head. "What," Kerric asked, a little confused, "am I supposed to be seeing here?"

"It's a _beast_, mate," the Shadow Lord spat. He took in a deep breath. "A-_foul_-filth encrusted-_savage_-manifestation-of-_pure_-evil-from-the-very-_depths_-of-the-Pit-of-_Fire_-and-Suphur-_itself_." The Shadow Lord's chest was heaving. He stared at the big man, shaking his head slowly. "Where's your humanity, mate? How can you touch that thing and still hang onto the thin threads of your sanity?"

Kerric, noticing the Shadow Lord's bulging eyes, wasn't quite sure exactly who was losing their sanity here. He had a sneaking suspicion that it was himself.

"It's...just...just from my farm," Tondial protested, a little taken aback. "I was just carrying it home."

The Shadow Lord wore an incredulous expression. "_Listen _to it, mate."

Both Kerric and the Tondial listened. The cucco continued to bob its head. "What," Kerric asked, swallowing, "is it saying?"

"It is saying," the Shadow Lord said, his eyes feverish. "It is saying: Do not _cluck_ with us."

All three of them stared at the cucco. The bird bobbed its head some more.

The Shadow Lord bent at the waist, his eyes coming level with the cucco's. The cucco stared back, its expression blank. "Come near me, sunshine," the Shadow Lord whispered, "and I'll roast you."

"Do you mind," Tondial said, clearing his throat. "Do you mind not talking to the chicken? It's really rather disconcerting."

Standing up straight, the Shadow Lord flashed him a winning smile. "I do apologise," he said. "Would love to chat and catch up on all the gossip, but my friend and myself were just about to leave, actually."

The big man frowned. "You were?"

Kerric frowned, too. "We were?"

The Shadow Lord grabbed his arm and yanked. "Run, boy!"

"Hey!" Tondial bellowed – but it was too late. The Shadow Lord leapt onto the counter, the glasses tinkling from the motion. Then, spinning on his heel, he ploughed into the drinks rack with a well-aimed kick. Slivers of glass went flying as bottles shattered, bubbling and fizzing liquid spilling onto the floor with a hiss. The rack trembled, then collapsed in a cloud of splinters. The patrons scattered, Tondial amongst them, though he bellowed his rage to the heavens.

The innkeeper screamed. "Stop!"

"Sorry!" the Shadow Lord called. Removing a small pouch on his waist, he threw it at the innkeeper, the flash of gold within revealing its contents. He jumped to the floor, glass crunching beneath his boots, and drew his sword. "Excuse me!" He pushed a customer out of the way, then sliced through the lock on the other door. Sparks flew, and then the door swung open, cold fresh air pouring in like sunlight. The Shadow Lord glanced at Kerric, who was standing open-mouthed nearby. "Time to go, mate"

Yanking him by the wrist again, the Shadow Lord led him out into the back streets, angry shouts of protest following them in the air. They ran, their boots slapping against the ground, mist from heaven-knows-where curling around their bodies like cloaks. Kerric raised a hand to his mouth – the stench here was foul; diseased animals, urine and rotted vegetables combined to make a potent mix. They turned one corner, then another – and then stopped abruptly, the Shadow Lord sliding to a halt. Kerric looked up – they were in a narrow alleyway between two ramshackle, a wooden walkway above them.

The Shadow Lord gasped for breath as he turned to face Kerric. "My name's Link, mate," he said, holding out a hand. "Nice to meet you."

Blinking, Kerric took the man's hand and shook it gingerly. "Kerric. As you know."

Link nodded. "And here are my associates. The Princess Zelda."

Kerric jumped as a woman swung down from the walkway, hanging from her feet. "Hello," she said, smiling.

She wore a patch over one eye, a thin scar leading down her face. Despite that, though, Kerric saw that she still had a sense of beauty about her. She somersaulted to the ground in a crouch, then stood up straight. "A Princess," Kerric said, dazed. She glided towards him gracefully. His heart pounding, Kerric strode forward –

And found his path blocked as the Shadow Lord stepped in. "Yes, a Princess." There was a flash of warning in the man's eyes. Kerric caught the hint and stepped back. "And this," Link went on, "is Navi the Fairy."

A sparkling globe of light shot out from under a box, scattering discarded news scrolls in its wake. "Hey!" it squeaked. "Listen!"

Kerric's mouth dropped open. "A fairy…" he breathed. "I never knew…"

"Lot's of things you don't know, mate," Link said, butting in. "Let me cut a long story short for you. Heard on the grapevine that you know how to find portals into other worlds."

"And," the Princess added, "that you know how to use the portals to go exactly where you want."

Kerric knew that's what they'd been looking for, knew that that was his bargaining chip, but only now did it dawn on him why they sought the portal. "You're not from my world, are you?" he gasped. "You're from one of those other worlds."

The Shadow Lord glanced at the Princess. "Think we have a sage in the making here, don't you, love?"

"Link," Zelda warned, frowning. She turned to Kerric, smiling sweetly. "Yes, we are. We've been stuck in your world for months - and we need to get back home. Our friends need us."

"My city needs me," the Shadow Lord added.

Kerric stood up straight. This is what he'd been planning towards after all. "I can take you to it," he said, glancing at the three of them in turn. "But only if you do something for me first." He smiled as they waited, mist clinging to their clothes. At last he would find peace. "Something very, very important."


	16. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Link, the Shadow Lord of Castleton, was surrounded by complete darkness. Inky black it was, the type of darkness that sucked the light and joy out of every living thing. His heart thudded in his chest, trembling from the chill that bit deep into his skin. A sudden halo of light pierced the gloom like a knife. Peering ahead, Link saw something lying on the floor, a bracelet of illumination surrounding it. He shuffled forward, the cold air like a trickle of ice down his throat, and squinted as he tried to make out what it was.

Fabric fluttered in the gentle breeze, a glint of emerald catching his eye. His Hat! Joy erupted in the Shadow Lord's heart, and he began to run forward, grinning. Link froze as the Hat began to rise, a small shape forming beneath it. Dread hooked into his heart when he realised what it was. A cucco. A cucco was wearing his beloved Hat. Not just any cucco, no; a foul, wrinkled one with glowing yellow eyes.

Link drew his sword with an echoing metallic whisper. His fingers tensed around the hilt, his feet shifting into an attack stance.

The cucco eyed him warily. "At last we meet again," it said. "When I left you, I was but the learner; now I am the master."

Blinking, the Shadow Lord frowned. "You're a talking cucco." His voice rolled in the air.

Slowly, Link's eyes moved up to his Hat, sitting forlorn and defenceless above the creature's feathered head.

The cucco noticed the gesture. "You want this, don't you?" the cucco whispered, seductive menace flooding its voice. "The hate is swelling in you now." Its eyes narrowed, its beak forming a sneer. "Take your weapon. Use it. I am unarmed." It bit out its words, clipped with hatred. "Strike me down with it. Give in to your anger. With every passing moment, you make yourself more my servant."

Trembling, the Shadow Lord struggled to control the bile of rage rising in his heart. He wiped his brow, and stood his ground. "I'll never join you."

"It is unavoidable," it crowed. "It is your destiny." Lightning flashed, illuminating the room for a heartbeat. "You, like your Hat, are now mine!"

"Never," Link breathed.

"Your thoughts betray you." Its yellow eyes turned inward, as though pondering. For some reason, the cucco began to have problems breathing. "Your feelings for your friends are strong, especially for…" It tilted its head to one side. "…_wife!_ If you will not turn to the cucco…then perhaps _she_ will!"

Light flooded the room, and a massive, pink-clad cucco waddled in, one eye blind, a scar trailing down its face. The first cucco began to cackle menacingly as Link's mouth dropped open. His sword clattered to the ground and he sunk to his knees. Throwing out his arms, he screamed: "NOOOOOO-

-OOOOOOO." The Shadow Lord woke with a start, a film of sweat drenching his skin, the muffled tap of rain echoing in the darkened chambers. Blinking, Link's eyes readjusted themselves, and after a moment to steady his breathing, he peeled himself off the bedroll. He was in the windmill that Kerric and his sister Raenie called home, sleeping in one corner of the main work room, the twins twitching as they lay, the Princess – over in the far corner – sound asleep. It was a wonder that no-one had been woken by his shout.

"Link?" He turned to the sound of the voice, saw Navi float over to him, her light dim. "Is something the matter?"

"Just a dream, love," he replied, pulling on his tunic and smoothing it down. He flashed her a smile. "Nothing to worry about."

Silently, he padded across the room, straw snapping and biting into his feet, the drumming beat of the rain a constant companion. The sky seemed to tear as thunder rolled, a burst of lightning flashing through the room's only window.

Link knelt beside his wife, watched the steady rise and fall of her breathing. His wife. They certainly didn't live like man and wife, that was clear from their sleeping arrangements. They'd had little time to discuss the matter, though, so busy they'd been with readjusting to this new world, and then planning a way home.

Lightning winked through the window once more, making the Princess' face glow with an azure haze for a heartbeat. With the tip of his finger, he slowly trailed the path of her scar. Zelda's eyelids fluttered, but she didn't wake. The Shadow Lord felt something surge in his heart. This is what he'd wanted all along, and it had been there from the very beginning, though he'd been completely unaware.

He didn't love her for himself, of course – he wasn't too fond of _that_ sort of person, the sort that demanded affection just to feel wanted. As wonderful as that was, and as delicious as the warmth it brought to the heart – it really rather wasn't something that ever lasted. That sort would mope and make a martyr of themselves – the whole, 'I'll never find someone' speech - when they didn't get what they wanted. He could always recognise those sorts – if they ever found themselves rejected by the objects of their affection, their love would instantly blister into hate and resentment. True hatred, not the façade he'd always put on to rebuff the Princess' criticisms of his policies. Though, he had to admit, he did at times enjoy putting the poor love in her place over her somewhat naive views. He just hadn't meant to enjoy it too much. Terrible of him, he knew.

Link thought he had loved her for her beauty and her kindness - but now that one of those qualities was irreparably gone, he realised that he'd been wrong. He loved her for what she represented – all that was good in the world. It reminded him of the time he had faced Ganondorf. With Hyrule a wind-swept ruin, the only thing, in his eyes, that had remained pure, was the Princess herself. Link knew that she had a role in the world; he just didn't think that role was to be in charge of the day-to-day business of a city like Castleton. Even now, he was rather at a loss to explain that to her. The Shadow Lord frowned – that was something that always bothered him. He could never explain to others things that seemed blatantly obvious to him. They seemed puzzled – if at times not downright aghast - at his words and actions, and he was even more puzzled at their reactions. It was as though their minds had habituated themselves to one type of thinking and they didn't know how to break out of it. Awfully dull way to live, if he did say so himself.

He stood. Whenever he felt like this in Castleton, he always had one solution – to go out hidden amongst the people. "Navi, love" he called in a soft voice. Trotting back to his side of the room, Link pulled on his boots and cloak, lifting the hood as the fairy hovered over to him. "Let's go sightseeing."

"Hey!" she whispered back. "It's raining."

Link tried hard not to roll his eyes. "I'm glad you're here to tell me these things, love, otherwise I would never make it through the day without you." Noticing the little woman's scowl, he added, "Just going out for some fresh air. Thought I might need a little light."

"That's all I am to you, aren't I?" she squeaked, following him nonetheless. "Just a light! Hmph! I've heard how you keep all the other fairies locked away in bottles in your castle. You just use them when you need them!"

"No, love," he replied, opening the door. The sharp bite of chill air stung his skin, the rain splashing against his face, the sound of its patter increasing tenfold. "I know fairy culture. I studied it. It's your purpose in life to do at least one altruistic thing for another person before you die. Just one, and then you can do what you like. It's your purpose in life, it's the only thing that your culture considers noble. If you don't do it, then I know that your descendents are considered unfit and low for a hundred generations – they get all the bad jobs, they get treated like dirt." He peered out into the gloom, shivering slightly from the cold. "The fairies I keep are the ones that didn't want to play that game. They thought it'd be fun to scare the children, to jump out in the dark, snickering. I know from the scrolls that if a fairy is kept in a bottle, then as soon as she's released she has no choice but to heal the one that freed them." He stepped out, his skin tingling as fat drops of water splattered against his body. "So I found out who these particularly nasty fairies were. I stuffed them in bottles, and I stored the bottles in my castle. When the situation called for the appropriate resolution, I took one with me, then let her free. I get what I need. She gets what she needs. And then she's free to go."

"Still," Navi said, though there was an uncertain edge to her voice. "It just doesn't seem right. Keeping them cooped up like that."

The Shadow Lord sighed, but said nothing. There it was again. That incomprehension he received from everyone.

His cloak stuck to his skin as he strode, head down, through the deserted streets. No one would be out walking in this weather. Navi floated by his hand, so that any curious onlooker would assume that Link was carrying nothing more mundane than a lamp. The rain continued to fall, tinkling as it struck metal, briefly glowing blue as lightning flashed, and splashing into the river nearby. Link veered from the path, then scrambled up a small hillock, his boots slipping and sliding as the soil turned to mud. He stopped under the shade of an immense tree, its branches hanging over the edge of the rise, then pressed his back against the rough bark and slid down to a crouch. Since coming to this world, this was the place he'd chosen whenever he needed a time to reflect. From here, he could see deep into the town, could observe the main trail that the traders and travellers used as they entered Garizon.

The Shadow Lord sniffed as he gazed into the darkness. Down below, huddled beside the muddy trail, Link saw a street urchin, his body frail and trembling. A dark shape, jostling along the uneven path, peeled out of the darkness – a carriage, the driver wrapped up in wool, light seeping out from the windows. The urchin raised a hand, his lips moving in petition, but the carriage trundled by, its wooden wheel dipping into a puddle and drenching the boy as he sat.

Link sat, expressionless, as he pondered on his situation. The land they found themselves was named Hyrule, just like home wouldn't you know, and it was a kingdom, the monarch a benevolent and wise old man who lived sheltered away in his castle. Terribly quaint of him, but he did seem sincere. Garizon was an insignificant town, ruled with an iron hand by a woman named Spinster Jardel, or so Kerric had told him. Refusing to jump to conclusions, the Shadow Lord had tried to find out as much as he possibly could about the Spinster – perhaps she was a ruler like he was? Perhaps she was a kindred spirit?

The more Link uncovered, though, the more disheartened he became. Spinster Jardel was really a rather sordid piece of work - nothing more than a petty crimelord, a woman who spun a web that stuck fast to every illicit and unlawful endeavour in town. Money was her idol, and power her lover. She was, Link thought, an inverse Shadow Lord – she somehow managed to create the image of wise and kind leader, while inside she was nothing more than a putrid mess. She had once managed to drain one particular family of all its wealth, hoarding their money in her Treasury. It had been Link, after the family had come to him for aid, who had broken into the vault, and retrieved what was rightfully theirs. Spinster Jardel had not been pleased.

The woman had a series of underlings who did her bidding – old crones named affectionately as the Elders – and they were just as ruthless as she was. In a pique of frustration, when they had refused to sell their land over to her for a piffling price, Spinster Jardel and her Elders had murdered Kerric's parents as they slept. And this, of course, had been the reason why Kerric had hired Link and his friends – for nothing more complex than the cold task of revenge. Kerric didn't want her dead – at least, he didn't voice that desire openly – he just wanted justice. He knew that the Spinster held in her Fortress the title deed to his parents land, and knew that if he could get that and escape to the King, he and his sister could transfer their land to another part of Hyrule and live there free from the Spinster's touch. Link thought Kerric was really a rather good sport – rather than demand the woman's death, Kerric was more concerned with providing a future for his twin sister. For once, both Zelda and Link agreed that this was a job well worth undertaking.

The only problem was the Fortress itself. Gloomy, foreboding and well-protected, they would have to plan their assault very very carefully. Coincidentally enough, the very portal that the Shadow Lord and his friends sought lay deep within Fortress Jardel. Kerric remained a little cagey on how he knew so much about the portals, but said he would be more than willing to help them. Link pursed his lips. A deal was a deal, after all.

He was pulled from his musings by the sound of another carriage approaching. Once again, the urchin begged for help, and once again the carriage trundled by. As soon as it vanished into the night, another carriage approached, the horses hooves drumming against the ground. The Shadow Lord's eyes narrowed. He recognised the markings on this one.

"Navi," he said. "With me, love."

Springing to his feet, he ran down the hill, drawing his sword with a slice of metal. He skidded to a halt in front of the carriage, the horses rearing in fear, the driver bellowing out a panicked 'Whoa!'

Link slashed the air, his blade cutting through the curtain of rain. "Money or your life, mate," he said. "Unless you've got some oranges. I would really love some oranges. Did you know that you live in an orangically-challenged parallel dimension?"

The driver's eyes widened in shock. "Thief!" he screamed. Screams began to erupt from the enclosed carriage. "Robbery!"

Leaping onto the horse, Link slit the reins with a practised arc, his sword trailing water. "Better run, sunshine," he growled. "Or else my ghost will haunt you."

Navi burst out from the Shadow Lord's cloak with an enthusiastic, "Boo!"

There was silence for a moment, save for the rhythmic dance of the rain. Then the driver opened his mouth and screamed, sliding to the ground and sprinting away, stumbling all the while.

"Hey!" said Navi. "Do I really have that effect on people?"

The Shadow Lord gave her a quizzical glance. "Truly you are the cucco of all fairies."

Navi beamed with pleasure for a heartbeat, soaking in Link's praise until, with a jolt that crumpled her joyful expression into a frown, she protested, "Hey! You're saying-"

"Not now, love," the Shadow Lord said. "Work to do."

He bounded over to the coach, then put a fist through the window, shards of shattered glass spraying into the air. Another scream shot out, a shriek that tore through Link's ears. The Shadow Lord recoiled, his hands coming up to the sides of his head. "Bleedin eck, woman!" he cried. "I only brought a sword, two daggers, three throwing stars, a package of mouldy cheese and a vial of poison. _You've_ got yourself a bleedin lethal weapon there, love!"

Link popped his head inside. The carriage rocked slightly from the motion, the rain falling in slanted torrents into the open window. A man and a woman, dressed in far too much gaudy silk, sat huddled together, shrinking back in fear. Eyes darting around the interior, the Shadow Lord spied the glistening spheres of a pearl necklace hanging from a hook, and scooped it up with the tip of his sword. "I'll just be taking this, thanks."

"T-Take it all!" the man stammered, trembling. "Take everything."

"No, the necklace is just fine, thanks very much."

"Take everything!" the man protested. "Take my wife! But don't kill me."

The Shadow Lord sighed, rolling his eyes. "I'm not going to kill you, mate, and I don't want anything else." He leaned in closer. "I've been watching you, sunshine. I may be a newcomer to your land, but I know that your law demands you give a tiny percent of your wealth to the poor. You've not been doing that, mate. I'm just here to help you with your civic duty."

The carriage bounced as Link leapt off, landing in the mud with a squelch. He approached the urchin, the thin child staring up with a wide-eyed gaze, then dropped the necklace into the boy's lap. The urchin sprang to his feet instantly, and then ran off, a sheer wall of rain covering his tracks.

"You ruffian!" the man screamed, sticking his head out the doorway. The rain began to plaster what little hair he had to his head. "You're insane."

Link stopped short, then spun on his heels, water running down his face. Navi hovered nearby, illuminating his face with her glow. "Mate," he whispered. "When the whole world's gone crazy, then it's usually the most sanest of people who are considered mad." He spun on his heels once more, and stalked off into the night, swallowed by the darkness.

2

"Where have you been?" the Princess asked as Link slipped in through the door. They were all awake now, sitting in a circle on the damp floor. Water leaked in from the roof, dripping to the ground in dull splats. "We were worried about you."

The Shadow Lord shook the rain from his cloak. "Just for a stroll, love, nothing to tie yourself into a twist over."

Kerric's sister gazed at him thoughtfully. "You're wet."

Link stopped, then looked up. "It's rainy, Raenie."

"Ha, bleedin, ha," she replied, scowling. Her expression changed instantly. "Did you go out on an adventure? I bet you did! That is just _so_ scorchin. Wait till I tell my friends!"

"Yes, love," Link said as he trotted over to them. "Navi and me were on the trail of the Great Raindrop of Doom. Terrible battle it was. Almost caught a cold."

Raenie grinned. "_So_ scorchin!" she cooed. "This is the best thing since we discovered the banana inside the peel!"

Link frowned, looking utterly confused, but was distracted by Kerric's voice. "You shouldn't go out like that," the young man said, his voice grim. "I think Spinster Jardel must know about your existence by now, especially after all the antics you've been up to these past few months. She'll have her Ryguard out looking for you."

The Shadow Lord, discarding his cloak quickly, slid into his bedroll. "Can't say I'm too familiar with the term, mate."

"Assassins," Kerric said, his mouth stretched in a tight smile. "Her personal guard, if you will."

"Terribly sporting of you to tell me this now," Link said with a false grin. "Anything else you want to reveal now? Secret weapons? Hidden desires? Long dead revelations of quite frankly unbelievable familial connections?"

Kerric stood. "Since you're safe and you're obviously tired," he said. "I'm going back to sleep." He glanced over at Link. "Don't worry about the Ryguard."

"Like we shouldn't worry about how to get into the Fortress?" the Princess asked, Navi floating nearby. She began smoothing out her bedroll as she waited for a response. Link noted that she'd pulled it slightly closer to his, and that her weapon – a dagger – lay nearby. Was _she _more worried about the Ryguard that she let on? The Shadow Lord smiled.

Raenie bounced to her feet, heading off towards her own bed. Kerric smiled at the three friends, knitting his fingers, then cracking his knuckles. "Worry not, my esteemed companions," he said, his voice cheerful. "All we need to do is follow our hearts, believe in ourselves, and we can achieve anything!"

Link, Zelda and Navi froze and, wearing deeply incredulous expressions, ever-so-slowly turned to face him.

Kerric grinned back at them.

"Are you not well?" the Shadow Lord asked.

"Nevermind!" Kerric said, shaking his head and stalking off.

Soon the room was plunged into the darkness again, the faint rumbles of thunder rolling off into the distance. The rain beat against the mill, like the sound of a thousand tiny feet.

"Zelda," Link whispered.

There was a shuffle. "Yes?" she replied, her voice drowned in fatigue.

"You know if in every world there's a counterpart from everyone in our world, then there must be a Link and Zelda here, too."

"Mmm-hmmm."

"Maybe even a Malon." He paused." No offence, you're my wife and everything, but our Malon is a bit of a sizzler, isn't she?"

Silence followed. The Shadow Lord stared into the darkness, wondering if he'd pushed her too far.

"Link," she said finally.

"Yes."

"That's my step-mother you're talking about."

"So?"

A sigh. "So, you're lusting over your own mother-in-law."

Another silence followed, longer and deeper than the last. Just as they were about to fall into sleep's deep embrace, just as they were about to sink into their own little dreamworlds, their all eyes all snapped open to the sound of Link's voice shouting: "_Egad!_"


	17. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"I am death's sweet kiss, I am your life's bane. My name is Steelwater Raven, though you'll never ever know it. I am the mistress' Ryguard – some think me legion, but I am but one. You have been marked, my friend. Today is a day of honour. Today is when you die by my hand."

Steelwater Raven of Spinster Jardel's Ryguard peered through the thin slit of a window cut into the granite wall of the belfry. Above him, against the backdrop of a glittering blue sky, birds swooped through the air, their wings a dark silhouette against the glare of the sun. Below him, he could see the Sky Inn, one of those newly built eateries where people sat on the roof, open to the elements. He could see the people now, tiny dots that darted here and there, the sun glinting off of the cutlery and covering the whole area with a sparkling haze.

"Do you always do that?"

Steelwater turned to the sound of the voice, blinking, the shadowy darkness of the belfry a sharp contrast to the shiny day outside. His apprentice, a boy of no more than thirteen years, stared back at him with a blank expression. In the background, Steelwater could see the immense shapes of the great bells, silent and still, the metal dull and flaked with rust. "Do what, Rohn lad?" he asked.

Rohn shifted on the ground, clouds of dust puffing up from the movement. "Speak to yourself."

The boy jumped as a bird – or a bat, Steelwater couldn't quite tell – fluttered frantically out of a hiding place, spilling chunks of masonry as it flew, then dived through the open window. Steelwater smiled, lifting his crossbow to his face. Closing his eyes, he cradled it lovingly, letting the cold metal kiss his skin. "An artist always needs his muse, my friend," he purred. "I inspire myself. It pumps the heart, you see, readies me for action." He opened his eyes, pulled an oiled cloth from his belt, then slowly slid it over the weapon, as gentle as a lover's touch.

The murmur of voices from outside rose towards them on a current of warm air awash with the sugary scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meat. "Let's get this over and done with," Rohn said, his nose twitching. "I want to get back to the Fortress."

Steelwater poked the bow through the window, his head tilted to one side, one eye closed as he aimed. "Patience, my friend," he said. "An artist is not rushed. After all, we've been searching for this Shadow Lord for months now, and here he is, like a fool, out in the open atop the Sky Inn."

Rohn let out a breath. "There's too many people, though," he said. "You'll only get one shot."

"Boy, have you not heard of Steelwater Raven?" the assassin said, a trifle annoyed. "One shot is all I need." His finger curled around the trigger. "I never miss."

* * *

Zelda, Link and Raenie sat huddled around a table, the whistling wind tugging at their hair, the only other sound the tinkle and scrape of cutlery on plates. Navi hid in the Shadow Lord's sleeve, occasionally daring to peek out, but offering no conversation. Indeed, the Princess mused as she drummed her fingers on the table, it was only young Raenie who was chatting away with any enthusiasm. Link had found a disgruntled worker at Fortress Jardel who was willing to hand over the plans to the building. The worker – he was a repairman – had no idea where the twins' title deed was hidden, but he did know the ins and outs of the Fortress itself. Kerric had taken it upon himself to collect the plans from the man, and this is what they were waiting for right now.

Zelda glanced at the Shadow Lord from the corner of her eye. Link sat, looking thoroughly bored, with his head in his hands, his fingers tapping against his cheeks.

"And so," Raenie was saying, in between taking bites from a roll of bread. "My dog ran out from my hands – Noodle, his name was, did I mention that?"

"You did," Link said, his voice blank.

"He was one _scorching_ poodle." She took another bite, then sipped from her tankard of water. "Anyway, he runs out and I'm _so_ chasing after him, shouting his name and then – boom! – a cart comes out of nowhere and one minute he's there, happy and barking, the next he's gone, completely gone." She paused to take a breath. "Even now whenever I see a cart I just shudder and think of Noodle's sweet little smile."

"Heartbreaking."

Zelda jabbed him in the ribs. Raenie apparently hadn't noticed, as she went on, "And so I told everyone. My friends. My parents – when they were still alive, of course – my brother. I even told my friends' friends and then all their relatives, too. _And_ I told my _really _distant cousin who I hadn't seen in _so_ long. It was sweet, though. They all brought me presents and I didn't have to do chores for a week. I just sat in my bedchamber while everyone visited me and held my hand."

The Princess could see that Link was making a heroic effort not to roll his eyes. "Always nice to be the centre of attention, innit?" he said through gritted teeth. "Worthless in the long run, but feels awfully nice."

Again the young girl didn't catch the hint. Zelda wondered if she'd been so oblivious to the world when she'd been Raenie's age.

"And so my friend, Miri," Raenie went on, "she stuck by me through thick and thin. She is _so_ scorchin and she's _so_ going to be my friend till the end of time." Raenie sipped on her water. "So, Miri, right, she was in love with a tailor once and so she learnt how to sew and whatnot, but then that didn't work out, so she then fell in love with the blacksmith and she'd go to the foundry everyday after she read a scroll on forging horseshoes, but that didn't turn out well, either, and then there was the Melancholy Poets and there was this _really _scorchin looking one, so she would follow them about looking sad and thoughtful like they did."

Link spun his mug on the table, water sloshing over the rim. Serving girls weaved in and out of the tables, their forms blocking out the sunlight momentarily, deftly picking up dirty plates and empty tankards with a practiced grace. "It would appear," the Shadow Lord said, "that your friend isn't entirely sure who she is. It's a bit of an empty soul - if I may say so myself, no offence intended, like - that needs to constantly change itself just to be adored."

"Link," Zelda warned. No matter the Shadow Lord's opinions on Miri's idiosyncrasies, the Princess felt confident that Raenie and her friend would work them out on their own as they grew, without having Link criticise them for it.

"And _so_," Raenie went on without missing a beat, "she's now in love with _you._"

The Shadow Lord blinked as the Princess desperately tried to stifle a grin. "With me?"

"Yes, isn't that _so_ scorching?" Raenie's eyes were wide, as though she were relating the most profound of truths. "We heard stories that you'd broken into the Treasury and whatnot, but Miri didn't believe a word - she said that there was _no_ scorching way you would do that."

Link's lip twitched. "And how exactly would the said bonny lass know what I may or may not do?"

"Because she _knows _you!"

"She does?"

Raenie rolled her eyes. "Of _course_ she does! She's in love with you, so she knows you." A triumphant grin sat on her face.

Zelda watched as Link seemed to struggle with his words. His jaws were working, but nothing was coming out. Finally, he said, "Shouldn't that work the other way around? Shouldn't she know someone first, and then love them?"

Raenie stared at him. "You are _so_ silly sometimes."

Sighing, Link glanced at Zelda as the young girl chatted on. "I'm silly."

The Princess tried to hide her smile once again. "You're silly."

"Remind me never to have children, love."

Zelda, a glint in her eye, placed her chin on her palm. "Shouldn't your wife be consulted before you make that decision?"

Link was about to reply when something flickered over his face. The Princess frowned. "What is it?"

"There's something on the floor."

"There is?" Raenie and Zelda said in unison. The three of them bent down to search –

- an arrow flew through the air, tearing straight through the point where Link's head had just been, then cracked into the floor, its tail feathers trembling –

- and they all sat up, Zelda and Raenie looking confused.

"Sorry," the Shadow Lord said with a smile. "My mistake."

Zelda blinked. "Did you just feel something?"

* * *

"You missed!"

Steelwater staggered back, his mouth agape. "_Im_possible!" His eyes darted from the window to Rohn to the window again. "I never miss!"

Rohn cocked an eyebrow. "Well, I say you missed."

Steelwater struggled to put his churning emotions into words. Finally, with a shrug, he composed himself, taking in a deep breath. "_Clearly_ he was brought up amongst the Wind People of Koholint and he knew instantly the shifting patterns of the air – especially when an arrow is travelling through it – with his magical powers of wind."

Rohn's eyes thinned. "Magical. Powers. Of wind."

"Yes," Steelwater said quickly, locking another arrow into place. He gazed out over at the Shadow Lord. "Well-played, my windy friend, well-played indeed."

* * *

Kerric cleared the table with a swipe of his arm as he joined his friends, then placed the scroll flat on the surface. "It's here!" the young man beamed. "We got it."

"Is this wise?" the Princess asked, her eyes glancing this way and that. "We're out in the open. People may see."

The Shadow Lord ran a hand through his hair. "Not to worry, love," he said. "See - no-one will suspect that we're plotting the overthrow of the city's ruler, since no-one will believe that anyone would be stupid enough to discuss such a matter in public. Thus, people will not have the slightest bit of interest in what we're doing as they'll just assume we're on some mundane lunch thing just like they are. Now, if we were to meet in the hush-hush, that's when people would get suspicious and they'd start sniffing around."

Zelda frowned. "I suppose."

"We're not going to overthrow her," Kerric said quietly. The edges of the scroll fluttered in the breeze, and he pressed his palm down flat on the parchment to keep it in place. "We just want justice."

Link shrugged. "Just want to go home, mate."

They huddled over the scroll, leaning in close. "Now," Kerric continued, licking his lips. "The Fortress is very well defended. There's an entrance here," he pointed, "here," he pointed again, "and another secret one here," he pointed once more. "There's a tunnel that leads from the river to beneath the Fortress – our man in the know said that this is Spinster Jardel's escape route should she ever need one. This is our best choice, I believe. The other entrances are heavily defended - even the secret one."

They all leaned in to get a closer look. "What about the tunnel?" Zelda asked, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Anything we ought to know about that?"

Kerric glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was paying them undue attention, then turned back, giving the Princess a short nod. "Traps," he said. "It's littered with traps."

"Like stingers?" Raenie asked, her voice hushed.

Kerric's lips pursed into a thin line. "I'm afraid so."

"And what, pray may I ask," said the Shadow Lord, "are stingers?"

Twitching, Kerric explained, "Spinster Jardel is unspeakably cruel. Her torture chambers are legend amongst those who know, and her interrogation methods the stuff of nightmare itself." He cleared his throat, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "She's also under the impression that the only people stupid enough to attack her Fortress are men. So…she…ah…"

Link glanced at Raenie who was wearing an extremely forced grin. "She…takes like…the appropriate measures," the young girl said.

"See," Kerric added. "Stingers are small dart like devices, bathed in magic, whose projectiles unerringly find their intended target."

The Shadow Lord raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

"Well…" Raenie said, before trailing off.

"Well?"

Kerric took in a deep breath. "They go straight for the jugular."

"The neck?"

"No." Kerric took another breath, licked his lips, then took a swig from Raenie's mug. "They're castration devices…they can go slice through the most heavily fortified, magically enchanted, steel bolted armour straight into a-"

"Alright!" Link said, flinching.

Raenie flicked at the table. "Remember Castrated Caelin?"

Kerric closed his eyes. "How could I forget Castrated Caelin?"

Zelda gazed at the two of them. "What happened to Castrated Caelin?"

"Poor fellow thought he could take on Spinster Jardel all on his lonesome," Raenie replied, shaking her head.

"Surely not?" the Princess said. "Not with all those castrating stingers?"

Raenie's face was blank. "He didn't even get within a mile of the Fortress."

Link looked somewhat aghast.

"No!" Zelda said, her hand in her mouth. "He was…?"

Kerric piped in. "Castrated to within an inch of his life."

Link winced.

"Castrated isn't even the word," Raenie went on. "More like…

"Minced?" the Princess helpfully added.

Raenie nodded. "Minced."

Link bit his lower lip.

"No matter what you call it," Kerric said. "It's still castration. It's like the Elders always say: Castration is castration. It's an art in some foreign countries. It even sounds menacing: Castration."

"Castration," Raenie said, looking thoughtful.

"Castration," the Princess added, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

Link's face was a picture of sympathetic agony.

"Castration," the trio said together.

The Shadow Lord smacked his hand down on the table. "S_top bleedin saying that bleedin word!"_

Raenie and Kerric looked away. "Sorry," they mumbled in union.

"It's bad enough –" the Shadow Lord stopped short, another frown on his face.

"What is it?" Zelda asked.

With a sudden lurch, Link moved to the left, colliding with a passing serving girl, and sending her platter of food flying. "I'm terribly sorry, I do apologise!" he said as the girl scowled. "Not to worry, little missy, my friends and I will help clean up."

Sighing, Zelda rolled her eyes, then walked over to the mess, the twins and Shadow Lord in tow –

- another arrow spun through the air, splintering into the floor next to the first –

- and Zelda glanced up, blinking again. "Did anyone just hear something?"

* * *

"You missed again!" Rohn looked positively shocked.

Steelwater began biting his fingernails. "Not possible…just not possible," he whimpered.

Rohn's face darkened. "Have you actually ever killed _anyone_?"

Scowling, Steelwater fumed. "Of course I have! I am _the_ premier assassin in Hyrule. Warriors, wizards and kings have all fallen at my touch. No one has ever escaped me yet."

"Then why can't you bleedin well kill this one?" the apprentice shrieked, his voice echoing in the tiny chamber.

"This is quite galling, actually," the assassin replied. Once again, he took in a deep breath, squared his shoulders and regained his composure. "_Clearly_ the Shadow Lord's mother mated with one of the Trees of Sentience, and so her offspring has an affinity with the wood from which he was born. This explains how he knows whenever an arrow is heading towards him – the arrows warn him in advance."

Rohn's face was blank. "Mated. With. A tree."

"Yes," Steelwater replied. "But I have the remedy – a silver arrow from a silver oak." He slid the said arrow into his bow, then looked out the window with narrowed eyes. "Well-played, my spawn of forbidden wood lust, well-played indeed."

* * *

"So," Link was saying as the sun began its descent, the sky blistering scarlet in response. "We enter through the tunnel by the river."

"Keeping away from the stingers," Kerric said.

The Shadow Lord nodded. "Keeping _well _away from the stingers. We can use Navi as a light –"

"Hey!"

"- and then once we're in, we go…?"

The wind ruffled the scroll once more, the waxy yellow surface crackling. Chairs scraped as people began to leave, and cooking smoke curled up into the air. Zelda stared at the document, her lips pursed, her eyes scanning, until finally she pressed her finger against once particular room. "Library, it says," she explained. "That should be the first place we look for the title deed."

"Right," Kerric replied, rubbing his chin. "Over here," he pointed, "is where your portal is. I still need to teach you how to use it properly."

Link looked up, his face cloaked in shadow. "That you do, mate," he said. "And I think I need to teach you two twins the art of fighting. Or else there's no point us going in."

Raenie's eyes brightened. "That will be _so_ scorchin!" she cooed. "Wait till I tell Miri."

Link turned his attention to the young girl. "You won't be telling anyone, young miss," he said. "Not unless you want to get us all killed."

"Or worse," the Princess added ominously. She gazed at her three friends in turn.

"What are the guards like?" the Shadow Lord asked. He leaned back, slouching casually over the back of his chair. His eyes made furtive glances all around them. Zelda knew that he was keep a surreptitious watch.

Kerric sucked on his teeth as he pondered. "Standard. Usually hired from the local youth – you know, the people who can't get employed anywhere else. Big, burly-"

"Stupid," Zelda finished. "Excellent."

"Weapons?" Link asked, sniffing.

Zelda watched as Kerric leaned back, knitting his fingers. "Just swords." Scarlet light danced on his face. "The Ryguards are the better fighters. They'll have crossbows, too, or so I've heard. They'll probably be placed closer to the Spinster."

"So you've heard," the Shadow Lord repeated, leaning over the table. "Tell me, boy, has anyone actually ever seen one of these Ryguards?"

"No," Kerric replied. One of the patrons walked by and Kerric fell silent, gazing at the floor as he waited for the man to pass. "But there's terrible stories told about them. Terrible."

"That's right!" Raenie added. Strands of her purple hair fell across her face, her almond shaped eyes wide. "It's said that no one's ever gone against them and lived. Said they can kill without their victims even seeing them."

"Is that so?" Link replied. "Best we avoid them, I suppose."

The Princess, her gaze on her husband, noticed that his eyes darted to the belfry towering above them, just for a fraction of a second. "Do we know," she asked, flicking the observation from her mind, "exactly where this tunnel is?"

Kerric shrugged, and scratched the back of his hand. "I have a general idea. We'll just have to poke about a bit." He looked up. "So…when is the word given?"

Link let his eyes wander around the open room, his expression thoughtful, before he turned back to reply. "A few days, maybe a week," he said. "Let's get you and your bonny sister toughened up a bit. We'll need to find some weapons, too."

"A week," Kerric repeated, his voice soft.

"Anymore than that, mate," the Shadow Lord replied, tapping his finger against the scroll, "and the Spinster might notice that this has gone missing."

Kerric sighed. "So close."

Link smiled. "Don't start any gabbing about destiny now-" He froze. The other three turned to him, their eyes questioning. Then, with a sudden blur of movement, Link slammed his fists down on the table. The other end shot up, sending the scroll flying, and an arrow cracked into the polished oak, spraying shattered woodchips into the air.

People screamed, scattering. Zelda, on her feet in a heartbeat, gaped at the arrow. "Where did that…?" Her eyes shifted, finding the other two arrows buried deep in the floor beside them. "What's going on…?"

The innkeeper, fury contorting his face, strode up to their table. Link stood, smiling, then patted him on the shoulder. "Think you have a bug problem, mate."

Just before the innkeeper exploded in a cloud of rage-fuelled protests, the Princess caught Link gazing at the belfry one more time, a twinkle in his eye.

* * *

"Well?"

"_Clearly_ the Shadow Lord is a secret member of the Order of the Table Tamers, and has instructed all tables to protect him at the cost of their own lives."

"Order. Of. The Table Tamers."

"Well-played, my wind obsessed, wood begotten, table lust fuelled friend, well-played indeed."

"That's it. I'm going home."

**-----**


	18. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A vast canopy of stars lay sprinkled across the vault of the night sky, as though someone had spilt pure light across the heavens, and Steelwater Raven, his apprentice Rohn reluctantly in tow, had to sigh from the beauty of it all. Assassin he may be, but he wasn't hard of heart, at least, he didn't think he was. They sat beneath a tree beside the river, watching the dark silhouette of the windmill as starlight played on its wooden form. The gentle lapping of the river mixed with the buzz and hum of the resident insects, glowing fireflies darting in and around their faces.

"They're in there," the assassin said with a weighty tone of finality. His gloved hand tapped against his crossbow, hanging from his belt in amongst all his other tools.

Rohn scratched the bridge of his nose, looking suitably unimpressed. "How can you tell?" He watched a solitary leaf break off a branch, spinning slowly down, until it came to rest on a bed of curved cherry blossoms, tinted pink and gently bobbing up and down on the surface of the water. "We haven't seen anyone go in or go out."

"That's because," Steelwater explained, running one hand through his fiery crimson hair, "they're not going in through the main door. They're too clever for that." A steady beat of natural music drowned out his voice momentarily, a song of chirps and hisses, punctuated here and there by a howl or a hoot. "They're going in via the workers entrance on the far side. That, and the fact that there's a faint hint of smoke coming through that cunningly disguised hole in the roof. Very clever – a disused mill, and they still take precautions."

Rohn squinted through the darkness. "If it's disused," he asked, "then why are the sails still turning?"

A grin flashed across Steelwater's face. "Haven't you heard the story of the Enchanted Mill? Two of the most powerful wizards in the whole of Hyrule tore through the land in an attempt to vanquish the other. In the end, they had their final battle, with the fate of the world in balance, here at this mill, the residual magic making the sails spin for eternity."

There was silence for a moment, and Steelwater was sure that he'd made an impression upon the boy. Then, with a deep frown on his face, Rohn looked up and said, "Why in the world would the two most powerful wizards of all time have their final battle in a bleeding windmill?"

Steelwater scowled. "You know, I don't like your lip, boy," he growled. "_Clearly_ the two wizards knew that the only place their vast energies could be safely contained was in the spiritual and transcendental vortex of the great mill of the wind."

Rohn's eyes were as slits. "Spiritual. Transcendental. Vortex."

Steelwater's lips flapped as he let out an exasperated breath. "What the people don't know," he said, his voice low, "is that this is just one step in my plan for world domination. Oh, yes…Rohn, Spinster Jardel, this Shadow Lord…all of you are just rungs in the ladder. Oh, you'll see…yes, you will, and I'll make sure all your deaths are slow, excruciating, and tantalisingly sweet to behold."

Folding his arms as a deeper frown spread across his face, Rohn said, "I…uh…don't think you meant to say that out loud."

The assassin had the grace to look startled. "_Clearly _you are not aware of my overbearing genius, or else you would be cowering at my feet, begging me to bring you to enlightenment."

"Overwhelming."

Steelwater's mouth twitched. "What?"

"You said 'overbearing'," Rohn explained, his voice tight with barely hidden impatience, "and you meant 'overwhelming.' At least, I think you did…"

The skin on the assassin's face seemed to stretch in the starlight. "_Clearly_ the sheer subtlety of my language cannot be comprehended by your grammatically challenged existence. It's a wonder I even use language at all, so far advanced am I from the petty demands of speech."

"Grammatically. Challenged. Existence."

Steelwater slapped the boy across the back of the head. "_Stop doing that!_" He let out a breath as his apprentice glared at him. "Now…the Shadow Lord will clearly be expecting the unexpected, so the only way to counter that is go with the expected, which in turn, because of its sheer simplicity, will become completely, utterly and devastatingly unexpected." The assassin let out a deep chuckle. "Well-played, my simple-minded, yet deviously tactically superior friend, very well-played indeed."

"You know when you said you killed all those people?" Rohn asked, blinking.

"Yes, lad," the assassin replied, his chest puffing with pride.

"Are you sure you weren't imagining it?"

Favouring the boy with a look dripping with disdain, Steelwater said, "What I mean is, we have to back to basics, go back to tradition." His eyes honed in on the windmill. "Boy…bring out the net."

-------

"Gentlemen," the Shadow Lord said, stepping out of the darkness into the main chamber of the mill, grin firmly in place. "Welcome to Cucco Club." Hands clasped behind his back, Link began to stroll around the room, his eyes darting from one member of his audience to the other. "The first rule of Cucco Club is that you do not mess with the cuccos." A fire burned in the middle of the room, crackling and spitting, turning the air dusky from the smoke that trailed up and through a freshly made hole in the roof. Zelda, Raenie and Kerric huddled around the pyre, their faces distorted from the shimmering heat. Navi flew overhead, slowly hovering.

"The second rule of Cucco Club," Link went on, his voice quiet, but steady, "is that you do _not_ mess with the cuccos." The light of the fire pulled at the shadows stretched across the floor, so that they appeared as cloaks, black as night itself, left strewn across the ground. Standing in the middle of one such shadow, Link suddenly stopped short, spinning around to face them all, his heels grinding against the grit on the ground. "The third rule of Cucco Club," he paused for a breath, then let free in a near hysterical voice, "is that for the love of all that is Holy, you do _not_ mess with the _bleedin_ cuccos."

Kerric held up a hand, his eyes watering from the sharp tang of smoke in the air. "When you said you were going to train us," he said, a little uncertainly, "this isn't quite what I was expecting."

Link turned on him, a crazed glaze to his eyes. "You've always got to be prepared for the cuccos, mate. You never know when one might just burst out of the undergrowth and tear you limb from limb." Flames danced in the Shadow Lord's eyes. "They patrol the streets in packs, mate. They consider themselves the true rulers and masters of the world. I'm telling you…they control the Treasury…they control the Kings…they control what you read in the news scrolls. They abduct poor defenceless Hylians and perform vile, disgusting acts upon them. They're everywhere…in fact," his face took on a darkened sheen, his eyes glancing left and right, "they could be here right now. Listening. Watching. Biding their time, waiting for the moment when we drop our guard so that they can peck us to death, then feast on our fresh, juicy remains. They won't kill us, no, mate; they'll eat us alive, just so they can stare into our faces and say 'Let's see how _you_ like stuffing shoved straight where the-'"

"Link." The Princess cleared her throat. "I don't think Spinster Jardel is going to have cuccos guarding her." She glanced to one side, saw Raenie lying flat on her stomach, pouring over a scroll, her feet kicking the air, and oblivious to all around her. "I really don't."

Link rubbed his chin, pondering. "You're right, love," he said, his tone reflective. "No one could be that evil." He let out a breath through pursed lips. "If only we had some Red Potion."

"What is that?" Kerric asked, confused. He brushed some dirt off his tunic. "Some kind of intoxicant?"

"Nothing of the sort, mate," Link replied, his old demeanour returning. "Can't stand that stuff, rots the brain."

Now it was Zelda's turn to be perplexed. "It's not an intoxicant?"

"It's a tonic," the Shadow Lord replied, a glint in his eye. "A healing one…revitalises the system. Very medicinal."

"But the way you drink it-"

"The way I drink it, love," Link cut in, his voice lined with impatience, "tells people that if they have one drop of that stuff, they'll go barmy. _Ergo_, they avoid it, meaning more for me – you know how rare those red herbs are? Can't have everyone exhausting the supply now, can I?"

"Wouldn't be better if everyone-"

"Everyone doesn't need it," he replied. "It's just for those whose occupational hazards are a little above the norm, love."

Zelda still wasn't convinced. "I'm sure the noblemen of Castleton-"

"Let me tell you," the Shadow Lord spat, cutting in once more, "about your precious little noblemen. They sit in their little castles, thinking that their opinions actually matter in the real world, gorging themselves on food and amusements, while in other parts of Hyrule people wallow in abject poverty - _their _only aim in life being the simple matter of keeping themselves and their families together and alive."

"Like us," Kerric piped in.

Link paused, his hands behind his back once again. "Like our esteemed friends." The fire popped as the Shadow Lord turned back to the Princess. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but to me it would be far more prudent if those more gifted of our citizens would pull themselves out of their indulgent little bubbles and do something productive to help those less fortunate to walk on their own."

"Some of them do," Zelda protested, but her words came across as hollow, even to her.

"Not enough of them, love," Link replied. "If most of them did, I wouldn't have to go around giving away all the excess wealth of Castleton's Treasury."

Tilting her head to one side, the flames warming her face, Zelda raised an eyebrow. "You do that?"

"I'm terribly sorry," Link said quickly, "Didn't catch that – nasty draught, gets in the ears."

Zelda blinked. "There's no-"

"So," Link went on, fixing the Princess with a pointed stare. "There are some nobles who _do_ do something, granted, but even then they only do it to make themselves feel special and unique."

"You can't say that about all-"

"Exactly why they call themselves 'noble', I don't know. You'd think they would so something that is, oh I don't know, actually decent, wouldn't you?" Link paused again and this time Zelda didn't bother to respond. "But that's not what happens, is it, love?" the Shadow Lord continued. "I'll tell you what happens – when one of these noblemen suffer even the smallest setback in the pursuit of what they think they want, they wheel out the dramatics and think of doing away with themselves." There was clear distaste in the Shadow Lord's voice now. "You'd think that their petty little problems – inconveniences that wouldn't even bother most of the saner people in Hyrule, people who have got better things to aim for than their own personal satisfaction – you'd think that those problems were going to bring about the bleedin end of the world itself."

The Princess winced, falling into silence. It did seem a rather accurate portrayal of not only life at court, but of a lot of people she knew who had the fortune to live in dwellings that weren't about to collapse at the slightest touch, of people who didn't have to worry about where their next platter of food and pitcher of water was going to come from. She stood, brushing down her simple brown tunic. She'd taken to wearing the local attire; Link, too, had followed suit, wearing a deep, midnight blue cloak and tunic that she had to admit made him look rather fetching.

The Princess watched – the conversation obviously over – as Link trotted over to Raenie. "Young missy," he said, gazing down at her with a quizzical expression. "What is it you have there that's taking up so much of your time?"

The young girl looked up, smiling. "It's _so_ scorching," she breathed. "After I told her your name, Miri got this scorching idea to write _stories_ about you and her."

Link frowned. "You told her my name?"

Raenie nodded. "She just kept asking and asking. But, _anyway_, these stories are _so_ scorching…all my friends read them."

"And, what," the Shadow Lord asked, "are these gems of literary wisdom about?"

"About you and her. About your life together."

Link scratched his chin, pondering. "What life together?"

"Well…if you had one, that is," Raenie replied with a deep sigh. "That's why we're all reading them…she calls them 'MirLinks'"

"MirLinks?"

Raenie nodded enthusiastically. "MirLinks."

The Shadow Lord's eyes narrowed. "That's not even a _word._"

Rolling her own eyes, the young girl let free an exasperated snort. "I knew you wouldn't understand," she snapped. "I'm going outside."

"What?" Link said, startled, as Zelda glared at him. "What?!"

"Don't go too far," Kerric called. He'd taken himself to one corner, polishing a curved blade that he'd purchased recently. Oil gleamed off of the metal as he spoke. "Stay close to the mill and come back if you even feel the wind change." There was a snap of a metal bolt, a creak of a rusted hinge, then the slamming shut of a door. A spray of water fell from the hole in the roof, tiny droplets splattering to the ground.

Sighing, Link bounded over to the single window, perching himself upon the sill, his head resting against the glass. Zelda slowly padded over to him, noticing the smile playing on his lips.

"Ah ha…look at that!" he gasped, grinning. "Splendid!" Link's face was alight with joy.

Zelda watched him, bemused. "What is it?"

"Shooting stars, love!" he cried. He looked as though he was in total rapture. "Wonderful stuff…have a look!"

The Princess carefully pulled herself up to the window. Gazing through it, she saw the blazing orbs of fire cut a path through the night sky, a trail of sparkling light in their wake. "It's…it's beautiful, I suppose," she muttered.

"Innit?"

Zelda glanced at him, saw the starlight dance on his delighted expression, bathing his face in a luminous hue. She felt her brow crease – she just couldn't wrap her mind this conundrum. One minute Link seemed to be almost a noble person, the next he was like this…

"You know what else is grand?" Link said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"What?" she asked, curious.

The Shadow Lord slid off the sill, landing daintily on his feet. Zelda backed off, uncertainty biting at her heart. He whirled around her, his movements a blur. She felt faint touches whisper against her skin, her eyes unable to follow all of Link's motions. All of a sudden he spun to a stop in front of her, the corner of his mouth curled in a lopsided grin. He coiled his fist up to her face theatrically, then uncurled his fingers. Zelda jumped, startled to see her ring, twinkling under the starlight, sitting in the palm of his hand. Her eyes darted from her belt, to his palm, then to his grinning face.

"For the lady," he said. "Good, innit?"

Zelda set her mouth into a thin line, almost shaking her head. "Still a child, Link?" she said, sighing.

Link looked at her, smile in place, but now wearing a more sombre demeanour. His eyes twinkled in the faint light. "Why do you say that, love?"

"Well…you're so…happy…over something so mundane." She shook her head, gesturing towards the window, then to the ring. He was like this with his 'Hat.' He exuded the same sense of elation during the tournament, too - in fact, even during the myriad arguments the two of them used to have. "Doesn't really fit the image of the ruler of Castleton, does it? What would your subjects think if they saw you so?"

"Ah…so, it's wrong to be happy, is it?"

Zelda frowned. "I didn't mean that. I meant-" She stumbled over her words. "Well, doesn't it embarrass you?"

He held up a hand. "You know what I see, love, when I walk down the streets of Castleton?" he said, his voice quiet.

"What?" the Princess asked softly.

"I'll tell you – I see people who spend their time asking others: make me feel loved, make me feel wanted, make me feel important, make me happy, amuse me, give me knowledge, show me the truth, show me why I'm here – and do it all now." He glanced at her. "You know what I say to that, Princess?"

Zelda leaned her head to one side. "Go on."

"Do it yourself, that's what I say." He paused to take a breath. "It's only a child, love, that needs someone else to do things for them, it's only a child that can't find a way out of his own boredom, it's only a child that doesn't like to slip and fall once in a while, and prefers to have it all handed to her, getting all weepy when things don't go the way she wants them to go."

"Isn't that what you do?" Zelda asked, one eyebrow bent in a sceptical arch. "Don't you do all the things you do for the people?"

"No, love," he replied. "I give them what they need - food, safety, peace – so that they can find out what life is. They just never take the opportunity."

"Maybe they're afraid," the Princess said, her voice hushed. "Maybe they don't know how."

"That's right," Link went on. "Too afraid they'll do something embarrassing - or too afraid they'll bruise their little hearts - so they hide themselves away, happy to get a little bit of excitement from their fancy little tournaments, always looking for the next thrill to indulge in – since they believe they're only alive to feel pleasure and to be amused - and since the thrill they're currently indulging in doesn't really fulfil them as much as they thought it would."

His voice was thick, but the Princess saw that his words were not couched in any bitterness. He stepped closer to her. She didn't move away. "Is it really that wrong, what you're saying?" she asked, somehow still not wanting to let him have an edge here, though, she had to admit, she was fascinated despite herself. Perhaps now she could find out why Link was the way he was. Perhaps she could understand. "What's wrong with a little relief?"

"If it were only just that, love," the Shadow Lord replied. "But if it's their life's goal to fill their hearts and their stomachs while everyone else around them goes hungry – in a manner of speaking – then what kind of life is that? They're so 'distracted' that they don't even think about what they're truly doing, or where they're going. They just themselves be taken by the tide, following what everyone else around them is doing." They were standing almost face to face now, Zelda having to tilt her head back a little to gaze up at him. "You know what's worse than that, love?"

"What?" Her voice had taken on a husky tenor that she hadn't intended it to.

"They dig themselves into their little holes and then expect someone else to pull them out, crying like babies when that person never comes, or never turns out to fit the little picture they have in their heads."

Zelda held his gaze, smiling. "We all need people, Link."

"But we don't need to be dependent on them to think for us, feel for us, make us feel alive. That's just the problem, innit? They think they're doing it for themselves, but at the same time they don't realise how much they lean on everyone else to shape their own reality." Link's grin, forever confident and self-assured, flashed on his face. "They don't seem to be terribly aware of the fact that the only person that can truly make them happy or sad is their own little selves – right in here." He pointed to his head, his eyes burning as the words fell from his lips. "Not a bad thing to listen to the knowledge of those far wiser than you, but it's meaningless if you don't go and experience exactly what it was that made those people wise in the first place."

"Don't stop."

"You ask me if I'm embarrassed, love?" he said, cocking his head to one side, as though reminiscing. "Tell it to the people. The world isn't going to end if they take some risks, it's not going to end if they get humiliated and fail from time to time, and life isn't as dangerous or as terrible as they think it is." He turned his attention fully to Zelda. "It's an adventure, but only if _you _make it one. You can make it a prison if you like – a pit, if you will - but I'd prefer not to myself, thanks very much. You think I'm a child for believing that?"

She almost shook her head, but instead motioned for him to continue.

"You want magic, love?" the Shadow Lord said. "Go watch the sun rise in the morning." He glanced over his shoulder, watching the shooting stars tear across for the sky for a moment, then turned back. "Do the folks back home think I'm a child because I see something exquisite in the world around me? Because I see my own life as a voyage that I just want to savour? Because I'm simply happy to be alive?" He was standing over her now, their eyes locked. "Well, I think _they_ are children because they're too _scared _to be alive."

Zelda gazed at him, blinking, the breeze that seeped in through the cracks in the wood rustling their tunics. "You're a very unique man, Link," she said. "You're strange, too."

The Shadow Lord's eyebrow arched. "How's that, love?"

Zelda found herself trembling, not exactly sure why. They were uncomfortably close now. "You almost sound like you despise the people. And yet…you seem to want to help them, too."

"Because," he replied, "all that matters is this: if you're alive, which I would wager most people would believe they are, then there's only one responsibility that's on your back."

"And that is?"

"To find out what your role in life is. If you haven't even bothered to find that out yet, then what's the point? Bleeding waste, really." He smiled, and for some reason, the Princess found herself smiling along with him. "I've found my role, love, even if it does mean it annoys me to the Pit and back that everyone else fumbles on regardless."

"You actually do care about your people, don't you?" she said, her voice gentle.

"I want them to stand on their own and know there's more out there than their own little dramas," he said, a surprisingly earnest twist in his words. "I want them to know that their own wants and desires are not the be all and end all of all things. That they don't have to amuse themselves to their graves in a mockery of a life."

"You know what?"

Link leaned in closer, and she could feel the heat of his breath on his skin. "What?" he replied, his own voice muted.

Zelda held out her hand, palm down. "I think I may be glad that I married you after all."

The Shadow Lord took her hand, his fingers curling around hers, then pulled her close with a gentle tug. She felt him push her ring into her hand. "Is that so?" he whispered.

The Princess' lips parted, her eyelids drooping, waiting as Link edged closer. "Hero."

"If you say so." Their lips brushed, a feather-like touch –

- and the Princess and the Hero jolted upright as a scream tore through the air.

"Raenie!" Zelda gasped.

"Cuccos!" cried Link.

Kerric was at the door in an instant, his blade at the ready. Zelda followed him through at a sprint, Link and Navi bringing up the rear. As a blast of cold air hit the Shadow Lord in the face, he would remember this precise moment as the instant when everything rolled into a heart-lurching blur. He saw Raenie's panic-stricken face, saw her struggle as she was held tight by an unknown young man. He heard the crack of a rope snapping taut, saw the very earth lift as a criss-crossed net peeled up off of the ground, folding around Kerric and Zelda like a mouth, swallowing them whole. A whisper of diced air reached him, a dart slicing the air then thudding into his chest. Instantly he felt some cold spike out from the wound, spreading its way through his entire body. Link stumbled, staggering under the net held aloft on a rope between two trees, then tumbling down an incline, his cloak tangling with his tunic, sharp-edged rocks and twigs scratching him all the way down, leaves flying in his wake.

Head spinning, biting down to stop the sudden rush of nausea, the Shadow Lord slowly raised his eyes. He caught one glimpse of the Princess, his heart catching in his chest, before a grinning scarlet-haired man dropped into his line of sight. The man stamped on Kerric's discarded sword with his heel, the blade flipping up into his hand. "Greetings," he said. "You should the honoured. You are one the very few people who have met Steelwater Raven face to face."

Link struggled to speak, but whatever poison had seeped into his veins from dart's steely tip had made his jaws clench in pain. His fingers dug into the earth, soil squeezing in his palms.

"Now you have to admit," Steelwater went on, "that my plan was flawlessly well-played, very well-played indeed. So simple. So effective." He tilted his head to one side. "You're wondering if I'm going to kill you?" He licked his lips. "No such joy, I'm afraid. See, the Mistress would like to invite you up to her Fortress. She's been quite taken by your tenacity in avoiding death." A humourless smile crept across his face. "But, both she and I knew you'd need an incentive to drop in on us out your own free will. So I'm just going to take this young man and the lady here up to the Spinster. Once you've recovered from my dart, you're more than welcome to come and pay us a little visit." He snapped his head around towards the younger man. "Boy! Leave the girl – and get these two ready. We're leaving."

It didn't take them long. Link guessed that they tied up their prisoners and left within a half hour of their capture. From the corner of his eye, he saw Navi spinning around young Raenie, desperately trying to comfort her as she watched on in horror. Finally their attackers were gone, and the Shadow Lord felt some of his strength flow through his body. He smacked his lips as the feeling returned to his face.

Raenie knelt beside him, Navi floating close by. "They took them," the young girl breathed, the breeze whipping at her hair. "I can't believe it." Steel flashed in her eyes, though the rest of her was trembling. "I'm going there. I'm going to get my brother back."

Navi descended to the ground. "Hey!" she said, though even her voice was muted. "Time to rescue the Princess again, Link? We have to go get her, right?"

Link pulled himself up, dirt streaked across his face. "No, love, not the Princess," he said softly. He smiled at the other two. "Time to go get my _wife._"


	19. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The wrinkled leaves, apple-green and yellow, shivered slightly, rustling as the tree itself shook. Then, as though to show that it wasn't the wind's doing, two dark figures dropped to the ground, a third, glowing, hovering nearby. Link pressed himself against the trunk of the tree, its rough surface scratching his back, his eyes scanning the horizon. There it was – a small tunnel on a mud bank above the river, guarded stoically by a group of armour-clad men. A tunnel that would lead straight into Fortress Jardel itself. Link motioned for Raenie, standing now by his side, to wait.

The Shadow Lord, as silent as the wind, peeled himself off of the wood and then sprinted across the open space to another tree, pressing his back against its thick trunk once more. Peering back, he gestured with his fingers, and waited until Raenie followed him across. She gasped, out-of-breath, as she reached him, Navi hiding in her sleeve so that her glow isn't noticed. Crouching, Link's eyes found a boulder framed in the ethereal starlight, perched next to the tunnel's opening.

Rolling, the Shadow Lord ghosted over to the rock, leaves and twigs clinging to his cloak, then crouched again, using it as cover. He raised his hands, then jerked his fingers – once, twice, three times. Raenie and Navi darted over to him in response.

The young girl peered past him as she pushed the purple strands of her hair out of her eyes. "What about those guards?" she whispered.

The Shadow Lord raised a finger to his lips. "Just watch." Inching forward on the tips of his toes, he crept up to the very edge of the tunnel, one solitary guard standing as a silent sentinel nearby. "_Pssst_/"

The guard twitched. His eyes darted left and right. His fingers tapped against the hilt of his blade. After a moment's consideration he decided to look dead ahead.

"Mate," Link whispered.

This time it was undeniable. Someone, thought the guard, is speaking to me. His nose twitched. He rubbed the steel visor hanging from his helmet. It certainly felt real enough. After another moment of soul-searching deliberation, the guard bravely ventured with a '"Yes?"

"Busy?"

It wasn't everyday that he had the simple pleasure in engaging in small talk. Especially not on duty. "I am," the guard said, "at this very moment in time, guarding this entrance from intruders on behalf of Spinster Jardel." Reflected waves from the river danced on his polished chestplate before he added, "This very secret entrance."

"Ah."

For some reason, the guard felt that this whole situation was very wrong. Out of habit more than need, his fingers curled around his hilt. With a brief glance at his companions standing straight a distance to the left, he went on, "You wouldn't happen to know of any person or persons who are, at this moment of time or in the very near future, planning to intrude via this very – and secret- entrance?"

"Can't help you there, I'm afraid."

"Oh." The guard frowned. The river gurgled beneath him. He found it very soothing.

The unseen voice continued. "You wouldn't mind popping off for a drink or a bite to eat, would you, mate?"

The guard stiffened. "Sir. That would leave this entrance –"

"Secret entrance."

" – yes, secret entrance. That would leave this entrance wholly and completely unguarded." He decided it would be far better if he just kept his gaze straight ahead. "Besides, I'm not hungry."

"Ah." A pause. "How about this quaint little proposition – you and your little mates go off and have yourselves a little fancy do down in the town while me and my mates guard this secret entrance for you on your behalf. I think it's the least you deserve."

"You'd do that?"

"Yes."

"That's really very nice of you."

"Don't mention it."

A frown wrinkled the guard's brow. He glanced at the other guardsmen, but they were too absorbed in the act of standing and staring to pay any attention to him. "But," he said, his voice low, "what if someone were to try to sneak past you while you were guarding by proxy? Perhaps you're not as well trained as my companions and I."

"Oh, you're truly well-trained, mate."

The guard beamed. "Why thank you."

"Nothing gets past you, mate."

"I know."

"Truly an inspiration."

The guard licked his lips. He still couldn't quite shake off the gnawing sensation that something was terribly wrong, and yet he couldn't quite put his finger on exactly what either. "So," the guard went on, "what if someone tries to intrude?"

"That's the beauty of it," the unseen voice explained. "Since, as you say, this is a secret entrance, no-one is going to try and enter through a tunnel which they know doesn't exist. Therefore, you and your fellow intellectual heavyweights are free to paint the town red as it were while my friends and I keep a looksie out while you're gone. Pure simplicity itself."

The guard's brain began to hurt. Sure, the stranger's words made a lot of sense, but at the same time he felt his heart sink into a pit of uncertainty and doubt. His grip tightened around his sword. If all fails, he decided, stick to the regulations. "I think," he said, injecting his voice with a drop of menace, "you better show yourself, my friend. In case you – and your friends, whoever they are - turn out to be intruders after all."

"Now what you want to do," the upbeat voice continued, "for your sake more than mine, is to not alert your friends or draw your weapon –"

A sharp whistle flew from the guard's lips, his blade sliding out from its sheath as his companions rushed over to him.

"-which is, in fact, the opposite of what you're actually doing at this very moment."

"Show yourself!" the guard barked, the others huddling around him, their eyes searching.

"If you insist."

Link stepped into the wan light, sword in hand. The guards froze, their muscles tightening, then charged, metal flashing and armour clanking. The Shadow Lord caught one guard in mid-air with his first swing, his sword catching the helpless man, then slamming him against the tunnel wall. Another leapt at him from his flank – a quick, sharp elbow to the man's stomach ending his fight. Link spun around, mud squelching under his heels, letting his blade slice through one arm – a flesh wound – then thrust to block a strike from the very last guard. A feint, dodge, duck and one swift uppercut later and the Shadow Lord stood alone, panting, a pile of mostly unconscious bodies at his feet.

The Shadow Lord glanced back at his two companions. "Wait here," he ordered, then slipped deftly into the tunnel. He didn't, however, notice the one barely conscious guard –the one he'd been chatting to – groggily reach out a hand, his fingers slipping through tall blades of grass, and pulling on a well-hidden and thoroughly rusted lever.

The tunnel sloped upwards, curling tendrils of ghostly mist clinging to the walls and floor, a large wooden door standing quietly at the end of the passageway. Water, dank, dirty, and foul-smelling, sloshed under his boots as Link slowly edged his way in, his sword at the ready. A cool breeze fluttered against his clothes, cold liquid dripping from the spider-web of cracks in the curved ceiling. The walls were tanned with indecipherable stains, the rock crumbling. The Shadow Lord squinted, and chewed on the inside of his cheek. Everything seemed safe.

Link froze. A sudden gust of air washed through the tunnel. A low, metallic growl rang out and, with the deep grinding of gears and pulleys, he saw the wall beside him split apart, spitting dust as it slowly creaked open.

Spinning around to face the new alcove, the Shadow Lord dug his heels in, a metallic tang instantly coating his tongue. He licked his lips, brought his blade to bear.

A pair of liquid-brown eyes peered out of the darkness.

Link's heart froze.

Horns, curved and sharp, made their appearance.

Link's mouth went dry.

With a snort the creature charged. Link screamed, a bellow that ripped through the air. He dived at the last moment, just as the cow's horns were about to pierce him, and rolled on the ground, his blade clinking against the wet, rocky floor. The cow careened into the other wall in an explosion of dust and grit, then vanished into the shadows. Breathing heavily, Link lay still, fear freezing his limbs, until, after his hammering heart had finally calmed down, he dared to look up. Nothing.

"Hey!" Navi's voice echoed from the entrance. "What's going on?! What's wrong?"

The Shadow Lord kipped-up, scooping his sword up on the way. Brushing himself down, he called back, "Nothing, love." His voice rolled in the curved space. "You can both come down." Under his breath, he added, "Cows in a tunnel. Cows in Jabu Jabu's belly – a bleedin' fish, for Pit's sake! Why can't they leave cows in the bleeding fields, eating bleeding grass? What kind of demented, warped, and completely insane person uses a cow as a secret weapon?"

Navi zig-zagged through the air towards him. "Hey!" she said. "Why are you talking to yourself?" She looked him over. "And why did you decide to take a bath now of all times? Really, Link, we have a Princess to save. Try to be a bit more considerate next time."

The Shadow Lord opened his mouth to bite out a sharp retort, his eyes blazing, then realised that he didn't actually have anything to say. His jaws snapped shut, and he opted instead for a suitably steely glare.

Raenie, her face pinched and her eyes fearful, walked past, dragging her heels. Link stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. She glanced up, a quizzical expression on her face. Glancing here and there, the Shadow Lord leaned down then, in a conspiratorial whisper, he advised, "Watch out for the cow." He released her with a wink and the young girl frowned in abject puzzlement in response.

The mist parted as they approached. Link ran up to the door, his cloak flapping in the breeze behind him, then pushed it open with a shove – and skidded to a sudden halt, his arms flying out to stop himself as he found himself standing on the edge of a precipice, a gaping chasm of inky darkness in front of him. Navi and Raenie caught up to him, the former's glow not able to cut through the murk, the latter gasping in shock.

"Hey!" the fairy cried. "What now? Where do we go?"

Eyes narrowed, the Shadow Lord craned his neck to gaze into the gloom. "This wasn't on the map," he muttered.

A deep sigh rumbled from within the chasm, a gust of hot wind blowing up towards them, scattering dust and stones. Something coiled out from below them, glowing emerald with an ethereal light, then shooting up, unfurling to reveal the shape of some sort of phantom, clad in tattered otherworldly garb. It hovered in front of them, black stumps of what were once teeth grinning wildly, eyes bulging and veined with tiny rivers of blood. "Greetings," it moaned in a voice that chilled the listeners to the core of their hearts.

"Who, and what, are you?" the Shadow Lord demanded.

"I am a Travel Sprite," it cackled, pure menace in its words. "I can take you to any place in the Fortress. Any place! You but just have to ask." It laughed, a hollow, throaty sound.

Link cocked his head to one side. "Anywhere?"

"Try me."

"Would you happen to know where some recently arrived guests would be staying?" Link asked. "A man and fair-haired woman with a scar?"

The Spite's wraithlike form shuddered as it laughed once more. "Of course!" it crowed. "They're in the Chamber on High with Spinster Jardel herself."

Folding his arms across his chest, the Shadow Lord demanded, "Take us there."

The Sprite twitched, suddenly losing a lot of its bluster. "You want to go to the Chamber on High?"

Link nodded. "Yes."

"Where the Spinster is?"

"I think I made myself clear in that regard."

There was a pause. Then: "Are you sure?"

The Shadow Lord sighed. "_Yes._"

Another pause. "How about the dungeons?"

"No."

Silence hung in the air. The faint breeze played with the loose scree. "I heard the dungeons are really nice at this time of year."

"We. Do. Not. Want. The. Dungeons."

"If you're lucky you might get to see the odd severed head or something."

Link hissed. "Is there a problem with you taking us to Spinster Jardel?"

"Well, yes," the Sprite admitted, a little sheepishly.

The Shadow Lord raised an eyebrow. "And that is?"

"Well," the Sprite stumbled, "Spinster Jardel isn't exactly the most beloved of mistresses. We…er...denizens of the Fortress tend to avoid her as much as we can."

Wearing his sweetest smile and adopting his most patient tone of voice Link said, "You don't have to see her, mate. Just drop us somewhere close by."

The Sprite considered this for a moment, its insubstantial brow creasing slightly. "We have a really wonderful sewer system in the Fortress. Are you sure you wouldn't like to see that? You haven't lived until you've seen our sewers."

Link's hands curled into fists. "_Just take us to the bleedin' Chamber!"_

"Alright, alright," the Sprite muttered, making an embittered face. "No need to shout."

2

They hung from the ceiling of the Chamber on High, still enwrapped in the net that had captured them, swinging slightly in the air. Kerric had to admit that, despite his somewhat unfortunate circumstances, the Chamber itself was a beautiful creation: glistening marble pillars, sprinkled with some sort of sparkling dust, curved up to the gold-plated ceiling, patterned tastefully in hexagonal shapes, its reflected light shining on the lush crimson carpets below. The Chamber, though, at this moment in time was still enshrouded in shadow, and Kerric could only make out the assassin Steelwater sitting idly at one end of the room, flicking at his crossbow as his assistant struggled valiantly to stifle a yawn, himself flicking at a nearby vase.

Kerric's eyes were drawn to another shape - misshapen and hidden in the shadow - which was shuffling to and fro, busily muttering to itself. With a tightness in his throat, Kerric realised that the shape was none other than Spinster Jardel herself.

"_Meh_," the Spinster croaked. "This Shhhadow Llooord is taking his ssssweet time getting here."

Steelwater shrugged. "He'll be here, my mistress. Worry not. _Clearly_, he is under the mistaken assumption that he will take us by surprise. I assure you, ma'am, that no-one takes Steelwater Raven by surprise. No-one."

"_Meh,_" the Spinster said in a dismissive voice. "Too long have I wwwaited. It isss timmmme to feassst agaaain."

The assassin frowned. "Am I to take it," he said, "that your interest with him is more than professional?"

There was a grin in the Spinster's voice when she replied. "Yesssss. Youuu seeeee, there is only onnne way for me to mainntaiin my eternal youth and beaauttyyy."

A flicker of doubt crossed Steelwater's features. "And that is?"

A chuckle rolled out from the shadows. "By marrying a hero who yearrrnsss unselfishly to save his trueee love." There was a snort. "And then by conssssummating that marriage. Oh, yessss. Oh, yesss, indeed. Connnssummmatingg."

Steelwater shuddered, his eye twitching involuntarily. "Poor, poor man," he gasped.

"What did you say?!" Jardel snapped.

The assassin quickly cleared his throat. "Nothing! Nothing at all!"

"Goooood," the Spinster said, her voice like the gargle of broken glass. "I kill my husbaaaandsss afterwards, of coursseee. But itsss a small priceeee to payyy for my wonderfully stunning looks."

Steelwater bit his lip, pondering. Spinster Jardel noticed the gesture. "What?" she demanded.

He cleared his throat again. "Isn't your name a little deceptive then?" he asked. "You being married all these times and still calling yourself a spinster."

"It adds to the attraction."

"Attraction?"

"Yes. No man can resisssst me."

"I see."

"Is that doubt I hear in your voice?"

"No, of course not."

"Good," Spinster Jardel snapped. "It better not be."

"So," Steelwater went on quickly. "You were always planning to kidnap this girl then?" He gestured at the Princess Zelda, lying limply in the net.

"I wasn't aware that the woman was the Shhhadow Lord'ssss love," Jardel explained. "If I knew…I would have executed this plot a long time ago. A looong time ago. Yesssss." She paused for a moment. "Now. Disturb me not. I must prepare my bridal bed. Oh yesssss. Yesssss."

Kerric, watching in silent horror, thought that Steelwater Raven looked quite ill. He glanced across at the Princess, saw her working the net furiously, and frowned. "What are you doing?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

Zelda gave him a dismissive glance. "The last thing Link said to me," she said, her brow glistening with sweat as she sawed at the net with a blunt piece of metal, "was that we should rely on ourselves." Her voice had a distracted air to it as she frowned at her work. "I'm not going to just sit here and wait. I'm not going to just whine 'My Link will save me' to myself. I'm going to do something."

"Where did you get that?" Kerric asked, nodding at the twisted piece of metal.

"A Princess is always prepared," Zelda replied.

The doors to the chamber burst open with a tremendous bang. Everyone jumped up, their eyes turning to the new opening, gaping as Link, Raenie and Navi spilled into the room. An incandescent green figure disappeared as quickly as it appeared, but Kerric was too overwhelmed to notice. "Raenie!" he gasped.

"Kerric!" his sister grinned in response. The Shadow Lord was by her side, spinning his sword into position. Steelwater dived ahead, his crossbow at the ready.

"Hold!" Spinster Jardel's voice rang out. "Lllet me mmeeet this Shhhadow Lllloord faccce to faccce."

"Link!" Kerric called, twisting desperately so that he could face his friends. "Don't say anything to antagonise her!"

The Shadow Lord nodded, then waited for Spinster Jardel to reveal herself. Sweat squeezed out through his fingers as he gripped his sword. He focused his mind, his eyes set on the shuffling shadow that crept closer and closer and…

…incredibly thin, like a skeleton with skin hanging limply from its bones, Spinster Jardel moved into the light, her speckled grey skin almost the same colour as the twigs upon her head; twigs that someone could charitably call 'hair'. Her cracked lips split into a gummy smile. "How do you like that, big boy?" She licked her lips, waggling her eyebrows.

Link recoiled in horror, his jaw dropping open, his trembling fingers almost letting go of his sword. "_Egads, woman!_" he gasped. "No wonder you're a spinster!"

Kerric buried his hands in his face.

Jardel's face crumpled in fury. "_What did you say_?!"

Raenie pointed. "Are you the cow?"

Kerric whimpered.

Jardel whirled around. "_What_?!"

The assassin dropped to one knee, swinging his crossbow up with one hand, the other reaching back, pulling free an arrow and locking it into a place. With just a moment's hesitation to aim, he fired, the recoil jolting his shoulders.

Spinning instantly, Link caught the first arrow with a downward slash, twirled around as another was let loose, then tilted slightly and thrust, his blade shattering the final arrow in a violent puff of splinters. With the quickest of glances, he saw Steelwater ready himself again – and then a vase shattered over the assassin's head. Steelwater rocked on his knees, his head lolling back and forth, and then he slumped to the ground, revealing Rohn standing behind him. The apprentice, noticing everyone's stares, merely shrugged. "I never wanted to be an assassin anyway."

Spinster Jardel whirled around, advancing on the Shadow Lord. "Commme on, swweeeet lipsss," she cooed. "Commme to yourrrr bellovvvvved. Timmmmme to dannnnnce the dannnnce of ecssttacccyyy."

Link's eyes widened in pure, undiluted terror. "By all that is Holy," he gasped. "What manner of foul attack is this?"

Spinster Jardel crouched, then pounced, colliding into the Shadow Lord, making them both fall in a tangle. She leaned close, her saliva clinging to her open lips.

Link screamed.

Jardel pushed down with all her weight as the Shadow Lord struggled. Her tongue snapped out of her toothless mouth, flicking wildly.

Link screamed some more.

There was a snap of a rope breaking. Spinster Jardel's head spun around, her mouth dropping in horror as she saw Zelda slip out of the now-open net, somersault in the air, and land in a graceful crouch. The Princess reached the Spinster in a few strides and, grabbing her by the scruff of her neck, yanked her off the Shadow Lord. Spinster Jardel tumbled away, bounced up onto her feet – and smacked straight into Princess' Zelda's fist. She wobbled for a heartbeat, her scaly skin swelling, then fell flat on her face.

Rohn stood idly by as Kerric scooped Raenie up in his arms, the twins giggling happily. Navi zipped through the air, laughing as she cried, "Hey! We did it! That was _easy._"

Zelda watched as Link got to his feet, quickly smoothing down his cloak as he tried to regain his composure. She folded her arms, a smile playing on her lips. "So?"

Link glanced at her. "So?

"You came for me."

"I did."

"But I had to rescue you in the end."

"Glad that you did, too, love."

"You didn't have to come for me."

"Nope."

She reached forward, flicked at his collar. "It was a bit bent."

He glanced at it, and smiled. "Thanks."

"So," said Zelda.

"You said that already."

"Have fun on the way here?"

"Oh, yes," said Link. "Had to strengthen myself up on soup first, though."

"What kind?"

"Cucco."

"Ah," she replied. "Good choice."

"Yes."

"I find it adds that little bit of berserker aggression that's always needed in this type of situation."

"Indeed."

"So," said Zelda, her eyes twinkling. "Why exactly did you come for me? Risk life and limb and all that? You didn't have to."

"No, I didn't."

"So, why did you?"

Link shrugged. "Had nothing better to do." He gazed away, looking wistful.

Zelda tilted her head to one side. "Oh, really?"

"Really."

"Nothing you want to tell me, then?"

Link pondered this, his eyes rolling slowly. "No, love, not really."

"No?"

He cleared his throat, his boots scuffing the floor. "Well…"

The Princess leaned forward. "Well?"

The Shadow Lord mumbled something under his breath.

Zelda's smile grew. "I didn't quite catch that."

Link looked up, his eyes meeting hers. "There was one tiny, insignificant reason why I came for you."

"And that was?"

The Shadow Lord, still holding her gaze, smiled broadly. "I love you."

"Ah." Zelda thought about this for a moment. "Interesting."

Link blinked, an uncertain expression flicking over his features. "Is that all you're going to say, love?"

The Princess pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. "Well," she said. "You never did tell me why you did what you did to the Gorons. And the whole 'slaves' thing."

"Will you listen to me if I do?"

"I will."

"Trust me, you'll understand."

"Somehow I think I will." Zelda clasped her hands behind her back, then let one foot rock back and forth under, skimming the floor occasionally. "I suppose…."

"What?" Link said, a lopsided smile now on his face.

"I suppose…I could collapse into your arms and let you kiss me."

"But?"

"But," she said, a glint in her eye as she grinned wickedly. "You look like you've been rolling around in an open outhouse and, to be frank, you smell like it, too."

Link laughed. "And here was me thinking you were the romantic one, love."

"I am," she said, gingerly taking his hand. "I'm the clean one, too." She continued to grin as they gazed at each other. "I do believe, Shadow Lord, that, though I may regret it – I hope I don't – that I may love you, too."

"Well," the Shadow Lord said, nodding sagely. "You did save me from almost certain conjugal death at the hands of the dear Spinster here."

Zelda glanced at the old woman's prone form. "I think her hands would have been the least of your worries." She turned, saw the twins laughing in each other's arms as tears rolled down their faces, then turned back, her smile still firmly on her lips. "Come on, Link," she said. "Let's go home."


	20. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

They ran through the candlelit corridors of Fortress Jardel, the boy Rohn in tow, encountering little resistance as their boots thudded on the soft carpet – alternating between a deep crimson and royal blue – curving around elaborately decorated corners, swooping under intricately carved arches, their eyes adjusting to the dimly lit passageways, the candles nothing more than bubbles of sparkling light in the shadowy gloom.

Kerric disappeared into a side-room for an instant, the sound of a thousand books being flung to the ground following him shortly thereafter, and then he popped out, skin flushed, a wide grin etched on his face, a scroll grasped tightly in his hand. "I got it!" he beamed. "The title deed," his eyes fell upon his sister who also grinned in response, her eyes sparkling, "It's ours!"

"That's _so_ scorching!" Raenie squealed as Kerric lifted her up, twirling them both around.

"It's over," he breathed, ruffling her hair, "It's really over."

"Now we go home?" she replied.

"Yes," Kerric whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. The dim, flickering light plunged their faces into partial shadow. "Now we go home."

Link watched, a smile growing on his face. He felt Zelda sidle up to him, and slipped his arm around his wife's waist. Navi buzzed around in the air, her light cutting iridescent paths through the near-darkness. "Speaking of home, love," Link said, his voice low as he leaned in towards the Princess. "I think our work here is done, don't you?"

Zelda glanced up at him, head tilted to one side, a small smile of her own on her face. "Now, Shadow Lord," she teased. "Is that a tear in your eye I see there?" A soft laugh left her lips. "You wouldn't be feeling a little touched by our little success now, would you?"

"Course not, love," Link replied, a little too quickly. "Not our success," he added. "'Theirs. It's not everyday where you can set things straight in such a clear-cut fashion." He breathed in. "Simple. Easy. Quick."

"Only in fairy tales," Zelda replied wistfully. "Things are different here."

"Won't stop me from trying, love," the Shadow Lord said. "Won't stop me from trying."

The Princess looked up at him again. "I know," she said. "Just don't forget about us while you're doing it."

His eyes met hers. "I won't," he replied. "I'm well aware," he continued, smiling once more as he pulled her close, "of _all _my responsibilities."

"Hey!" They all looked up to see Rohn pointing at a heavily barricaded steel door, a tiny grille cut in the centre. "Do you know what this is?"

"What?" the Princess asked as they huddled around the entrance. She pressed her hand to the cold door, a skin of rust flaking off under her touch.

Rohn's eyes grew wide, his voice hushed. "This is where Spinster Jardel keeps Young Simon. Well, I mean, this is where Simon wished to stay after he was cast out from his people."

Raenie, her hand in her mouth, gasped. "Not Simon the Burdened?"

Nodding, Rohn said, "The very same."

"Hey!" said Navi, "Who is Simon the Burdened?"

"Only the most tragic, beautiful, most heartbroken young man ever," Raenie breathed. "His tale is _so _scorching."

Rohn glanced up. "He travelled to Nutvako, where the Turtle People of the Isle of Dorienda live."

"He fell in love with the Turtle Princess," Raenie continued, picking up the thread of the tale, "and she fell in love with him."

"But they were cast out," the apprentice went on. "Both of them. The Princess from her people, Simon from his. And still they couldn't let go."

"And it's said that they came here…and Spinster Jardel was sick of them both…"

"So," said Rohn. "She offered to keep them locked up. Safe, from their point of view, to continue their love unhindered. They accepted." He pointed at the door. "And here they are."

The group, stretching on the tips of the toes, peered in through the grille, Navi fluttering above them, her reflected light dancing on the rusted metal. Inside was a veritable shrine – a small, wrinkled turtle, her olive skin shining in the torchlight, sat upon a lush cushion raised upon a throne of gold, flowers of myriad colour strewn around her tiny form. Portraits of the Turtle Princess, always smiling in all manner of poses, covered the wall, perfumed garlands acting as picture frames. Kneeling in front of the Turtle Princess, his chestnut hair flowing, was an incredibly handsome young man, his face serious, his chest heaving in sighs. The turtle slowly reached out a flipper, and Simon the Burdened took it gently, pressing it against his face, his eyes closed in bliss.

"That's…" breathed Zelda. "That's so sad…and so beautiful."

Raenie sighed. "It's just so…_so_ scorchingly tragic."

"Hey…" said Navi. "It's simply…simply wonderful."

"Now that, my friends…" said Link, "is one sick little turtle."

The three females turned slowly to face the Shadow Lord. "Well," said Zelda after a moment's consideration, "it is a bit strange, isn't it?"

Link blinked. "But-"

"Sick," said Raenie, nodding.

"But," the Shadow Lord protested, "you just said-" He looked at Navi, hoping to hear the voice of reason.

"Disgusting," said the fairy.

Link flared. "You're just saying that because everyone else is saying it!"

The three females pinned him with an icy stare. "What?" they said in unison.

"Friends!" Kerric said quickly, stepping in between them. "The chamber of the portal. I've found it."

Knowing an opportunity when he saw it, the Shadow Lord gave a mock-salute. "Lead the way, mate."

They followed him to a large pair of double doors, the polished wood gleaming under the dancing candlelight, the spicy scent of sandalwood hanging in the air. "This is it," murmured Kerric, pushing the doors open with a small shove.

A howling wind of crackling magical energy greeted them as the group entered. It spat luminous azure sparks at them, scattered their hair and pulled at their tunics. The Shadow Lord, one hand covering his eyes, threw his other arm out to shield the Princess, his cloak flapping behind him, snapping taut whenever the wind grew too strong. Shards of glass, fragments of wood and torn shreds of parchment crunched under their boots, the air shimmering with magic, solid reality bending into liquid waves. Pentagonal patterns were cut into the floor, the walls bare and unornamented.

"Here!" Kerric called, pointing at a small item in the centre of the room. "This is the portal!"

They huddled around it, the wind mysteriously dying away as they did so, as though they'd just entered the calm eye of the storm. They peered at the portal. They blinked. They peered again.

"That's it?" asked Link.

"Yes," replied Kerric.

"That's the trans-dimensional magical energy vortex that's our portal home?"

"Yes."

"Cunningly disguised as a bowl of fruit?"

"Yes."

Ever-so-slowly, the Shadow Lord looked up, an incredulous look hanging from his face.

Kerric wilted under his stare. "Well," he protested, "would you have known where to look if I hadn't been here to point it out?"

"I suppose not," Link conceded.

"It's a rather nice bowl of fruit." Zelda said, her hands on her hips.

Raenie nodded. "I like the tastefully scorchin' way the fruit is arranged."

"Hey!" said Navi, zipping around their heads, sprinkling droplets of pure light in her wake. "I love how the banana entwines with the apples in an almost exact replica of a-"

"_Stop talking about the fruit!"_ Link snapped. He cast a quizzical eye over at Kerric. "How do we make it work, mate? How do we go home?"

"Well…" Kerric replied, rubbing his chin. "If you want to go directly to the dimension and time that you originally came from, all you have to do is think a happy thought about the place."

The Shadow Lord raised an eyebrow. "You want me to think happy thoughts?"

Kerric nodded. "Yes."

Link's eyes narrowed. "You want _me_ to think happy thoughts?"

Kerric sighed. "Just think of anything or anyone from your dimension that makes you happy."

"Anyone who makes me happy?" Link glanced at Zelda, who smiled in response. "Ready, love?"

"Let's go," she whispered in reply.

The Shadow Lord glanced around. "Where's the boy, the assassin's apprentice?" He spotted the youngster instantly, and raised his eyebrows. "Mate," said Link, "would you mind not eating our only way home, thanks very much?"

"Sorry," said Rohn, putting the half-eaten apple back in the bowl.

"You be alright on your own, lad?"

Rohn shrugged. "I'll make my way, don't worry."

Link gave him a sharp nod. "Can you help these two out of the Fortress?"

"Not a problem."

"So," said Kerric, breathing in deeply. "I'd just like to thank you for everything." He smiled. "It's been…interesting."

The Shadow Lord grinned. "Don't mention it, mate." He turned to Raenie. "Take care of the little missy."

Kerric ran one hand through his hair, then wrapped his other arm around his sister. "I will." They both gazed at their departing friends. "In fact, you know what? I've learned something in my time with you all. Something important. I learned that-"

"Great!" said Link. "Wonderful! Everything you knew was false and now you've had an epiphany!" He gestured at Navi, then took the Princess' hand. "Ta ta, mates!" Fixing his 'happy thought' firmly in his mind – and holding her hand equally firmly – Link pressed down on a particularly ripe looking orange.

The world shattered into tiny, shimmering splinters and the Shadow Lord and his friends felt their whole beings crumble into dust. The wind seemingly took the tiny shards of their disembodied forms, pushed them through dead branches iced with frost, flicked them casually over boiling, steaming magma, then flung them, screaming, back into the world in a brilliant flash of light.

Link gasped, his heart surging as his vision returned to him. "Home!" Tears almost sprung to his eyes as he saw the sunlight stream in through one large window, sparkling and warm. "Sun!" Realising that he was in his Dragon Chamber in the Upper Levels of his castle, he grinned as his gaze came to rest on Volvagia's skeletal form, silent and still. "Dragon!" He dropped to the floor, touched the ground, then rubbed his fingers together. "Dust!" He glanced to the side. "Fatally wounded man!" The Shadow Lord blinked, then looked again, squinting. "Excuse me," he said. "I couldn't help but notice that you're bleeding to death on my floor."

The young man looked up, straining, then clasped Link's hand. "Worry not about me, Shadow Lord," he croaked, his eyes feverish and bloodshot. "'Tis but my destiny." Lightning flashed, illuminating the Chamber.

Link cocked his head to one side. "I know you, mate," he said softly. "You're the farmboy who became a 'Hero.'"

Dayid Holsman, true heir of the Versimi Republic, winced, sweat glistening on his skin. "I tried my best, Shadow Lord," he gasped. "I tried to fight. But they are skilled swordsmen, especially the Stalfos."

Zelda knelt beside him, looking him over. "Your wounds _aren't_ fatal," she said, her voice gentle. "You'll live."

Closing his eyes, Dayid nodded, straining all the while. "But you must retake your throne, Shadow Lord. For justice. I see you have a sword," he glanced at Zelda, "Princess, take my blade."

The Shadow Lord leaned closer. "Where are they, mate?"

Dayid stretched his neck, turning his head with great effort. "There," he said, indicating a tent looking distinctly out-of-place in the centre of the room, surrounded by a dozen or so chairs and perched next to a table set with sweetmeats and steaming liquids. "In there…just like my family were denied in the Versimi Republic, you have been denied here. Set things right, Shadow Lord, set things right. It is your…destiny."

Link blinked as lightning flickered through the window. "You know, mate, I still haven't worked out how you can belong to royalty if you're from a republic…"

Dayid's expression soured. "I explained this already."

"You did?"

Dayid's mouth stretched into a thin line. "Just go."

Scooping up Dayid's sword, Link and Zelda crept up on the tent, Navi flying inconspicuously above them. The Shadow Lord tossed the sword to the Princess, then edged closer to the tent on the tips of his toes. Voices drifted out from within.

"Stop calling me 'buttercup', Franco, I'm warning you," said one voice.

"As you wish, Rojan, my friend," said the other.

"So," the first voice went on, "did you visit the soothsayer? About your future?"

"Indeed I did. She said I had a glorious outlook ahead of me…and that all my deepest scars would heal once and for all. And you, my bounty hunting friend, did you visit her, too?"

"I did."

"And?"

"She said I was the festering wart on the smooth face of life and that I would awake each morning to look forward to nothing better than misery compounded upon misery, sprinkled with a side-serving of loathing, self-doubt and sheer, existential loneliness."

A pause, then, "And what, pray may I ask, did you think about that?"

"_Niiiiccce._"

With a sharp yank, Link snapped open the flap. Rojan, the skeletal Stalfos bounty hunter and Franco, the infamous fop, tumbled out screaming, scrabbling for their swords.

"It's them!" the Stalfos shrieked. "I knew this day would come. Looked forward to it like I like forward to the utter annihilation that comes at death."

Franco wasted no words, letting fly with a bloodcurdling war-cry and running straight for the Princess. Zelda met him head on, their swords clanging, then, with Navi in tow, the two combatants whirled off, blades slashing.

Link snapped his head back toward the bounty hunter. "You've usurped my city…you've turned my people against me and, worst of all, you've turn my beautiful little Dragon Chamber into a bleedin tea party." The Shadow Lord's eyes thinned as he raised his weapon. "Oh, it's on now, mate."

Rojan spun his sword into position, his glowing yellow eyes smouldering. "Blades will bleeds," he promised, "Shields will shatter."

The Shadow Lord blinked, hesitated, then blinked again. Finally he said, "Two quick points, mate. One – as reckless as it may seem, I don't actually have a shield." Rojan's skeletal brow frowned. "And, two – how exactly do blades bleed?" Rojan's jaw worked, but no words – enlightening or otherwise – came free. "Tell me, you haven't actually thought this through, have you, mate? Oh, look at me 'Blades will bleed, shields will shatter,' don't I sound oh-so-dangerous-and dramatic, don't I sound so oh-so-deliciously-cryptic?" Link snorted. "Don't you sound oh-so-ridiculous, I should say."

The bounty hunter's fingers formed a bracelet of bone around the hilt of his weapon. "Just fight, will you?"

Link ran, tensed his muscles, then leapt, sword swinging to meet Rojan's attack. A liquid blur of polished metal exploded in the air as the two fighters engaged, swords flashing with ferocious speed, steel crashing against steel in a hypnotic drumbeat. They dodged, weaved, ducked, swung, and spun, faster than the eye could follow, thrusting, parrying, deflecting.

Link went high; the Stalfos ducked, twirled, and went low. Leaping, the Shadow Lord dodged the attack, the Stalfos' blade whistling under his feet. In mid-air, Link twisted, stunning Rojan with a kick, then crashed into the floor. The Bounty Hunter, quickly shaking off the blow, saw the advantage and swung his sword in an overhead arc for the kill. The Shadow Lord flipped to his feet, catching the strike with his sword. He sliced in with another attack – parried – spun, sword whirling and hit back with a riposte – deflected. Swords crossed, once, twice, over and over and over…

They spun away from each other, their blades sliding apart with a metallic shimmer. Slowly, cautiously, they circled round and around.

"I hope you realise," the Stalfos said, "that I'm going to die horribly at the end of this battle."

Link wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. "That's the spirit, mate, keep it up."

The Bounty Hunter tested the Hero with a few short, sharp jabs, but Link brushed them aside easily. "Of course," the Stalfos went on, "not before you suffer a ghastly wound that will give you a long, lingering death."

"I do believe," said the Shadow Lord, " that I'll reserve that fate for you. I'm sure you'll enjoy it much more than I will."

Rojan grinned. "Blue eyes, blue eyes," he said, lunging in with an attack, "how can you tell so many lies?"

Link dodged, frowning. "Are you, perchance, trying to seduce me?"

"_What!"_

Taking advantage of the distraction, Link thrust, a blow aimed for the Bounty Hunter's chest. The Stalfos twirled away to safety, spinning around to slice upwards in an arc that the Shadow Lord deftly parried, then flowed into a riposte that the Stalfos barely blocked – all within a twinkle of an eye. Their swords crossed, Link sought to drive home an advantage, and disengaged his blade, ploughing his shoulder into the Bounty Hunter's flank, then whirling around to catch Rojan with a glancing blow to the arm, bone chips flying into the air.

The Stalfos snarled, skidding back as his yellow eyes turned to his injured limb. "Now that," he said, "isn't very nice."

"Neither, I hasten to add, are you," said Link, flexing his fingers, his eyes fixed on his opponent.

Rojan threw himself at the Shadow Lord once more, their blades slicing the air, cracking against the other, sparks erupting from blow after blow after blow. They moved across the room, their boots squeaking against the polished floor, their blades whirling, twirling and finally locking, held fast in place. Link pushed, trying to disengage, but the Stalfos held firm, their two swords entangled. Glancing around quickly, the Shadow Lord calculated all his options. His eyes fixed on one such possibility like a skewer. Stepping away, he let the Bounty Hunter push him back. One step closer. Another. And-

The Shadow Lord jumped onto a chair, coiled the muscles in his legs, then leapt up, spinning, tearing his weapon free from the Bounty Hunter's blade. Landing on the table, Link grinned in triumph – and was thrown back as the Stalfos caught him with a swift kick to the chest. He crashed to the floor amidst another pile of chairs, pain ringing through his entire body. The quickest of glances told him that Rojan was bearing down on him and Link swiftly kicked a chair up into the air to block the Bounty Hunter's path.

The Stalfos was too quick, though, smashing the chair to tiny wooden shards with a quick swing of his sword, then landing on the table above Link's prone form. The Shadow Lord was faster – with one graceful, lightening smooth movement, he flipped his sword up and around, catching it by the flat of its blade, then thrust the hilt straight into the Stalfos' jaw. Rojan fell back, howling in pain, and skidded across the floor, debris scattering in his path.

The Stalfos snapped his head up. "A very smooth manoeuvre, I must say. The beginning of the end for me, no doubt."

Link, breathing heavily, his tunic torn and his muscles aching, shook his head in bewilderment. "Exactly how is it that you've come to have such a bleak outlook on the world, mate?"

Kipping-up to his feet, Rojan's yellow eyes burned. "I'll tell you."

The Shadow Lord brought his sword to bear. "Go ahead."

"When I was a but a little Stalfos, my father died-"

"That's terrible."

"I'm not finished yet."

"Sorry."

The Stalfos swung with a sharp arc aimed for Link's head. The Shadow Lord ducked, spun away, then sliced in with a counter-attack. Rojan twirled to safety, then hit back with a thrusting riposte that Link flipped away from, landing gracefully on his feet with the barest of stumbles.

"So," said Link, "you were saying, mate?"

"Oh, yes," Rojan replied. "My mother married another after my father's death-"

"Wait, wait, wait," the Shadow Lord interrupted. "This isn't another step-father-beats-young-child-and-shockingly-turns-out-to-be-father's-real-murderer story, is it?"

The Stalfos shrugged, his skeletal joints clinking. "Yes," he replied. "That…and the decapitation. I was building up to the decapitation."

"So," said Link. "Your step-father beat you, is it?"

"Indeed."

"And this turned you-"

"Made me see," said Rojan, cutting in, "that life is nothing more than a box of pain and the only way to hone that pain was to join the PessiMystiko cult. They, at least, know the true reality of things."

"And that entitles you to be live in and spread misery, does it, mate?"

Rojan thought about this for a moment, his yellow eyes turning inward. "Why, yes, I believe it does."

"Does the universally deep phrase 'You overgrown baby' hold any meaning for you?"

Rojan snarled. "How dare you mock my pain! It wasn't my fault."

"I'll grant you that, mate-" He was cut off as the Stalfos spun on his heel, aiming another strike for Link's head. The Shadow Lord's eyes widened, seeing the attack at the last minute, and dodged just in time, the blade slicing the air where his ear had just been. He hit back with a diagonal thrust that was parried easily, then spun away with graceful ease.

"So, as I was saying…" Link frowned. "Wait. I've lost my train of thought."

Rojan waited patiently. "You were asking if I was justified in spreading misery."

"No, no, I passed that bit."

The Bounty Hunter sucked on his teeth. "Erm," he said as he pondered. "You were implying I was being immature in my outlook?"

"No, no, mate, after that."

"It wasn't my fault?"

"That's it!" Link cried, grinning. He cleared his throat, then composed himself quickly. "I'll grant you that, mate, it wasn't your fault" Link replied. "But the precise machinations of how you reacted to said event was entirely under your control."

"What do you mean?" the Bounty Hunter growled.

"Well, it seems to me – pardon me for my intrusive observation while in the midst of battle – that you feel good…about feeling bad."

"I do not!"

"Always nice to play the victim, innit mate? Then you can forever be the centre of your own little imaginary world."

"You know nothing."

They threw themselves at each other again, a ferocious blur of movement, their attacks now simply fuelled by instinct, slice, spin, parry, riposte, whirl, thrust, deflect in a concert of blisteringly quick motions. "You enjoy it, mate, admit it," said Link, ducking, weaving, then spinning around to swing in with a counter-attack, his sword flashing. "Can't find meaning in anything else, so you just find meaning by wallowing in your misery."

"I do not!" spat Rojan, parrying the strike, twirling on one heel and lunging for Link's head.

The Shadow Lord dropped to the floor in a flash. "Then why," he said as he dug his elbows into the ground, " don't you just simply…stop? Let it go and, pardon my cliché, smell the roses. Or the fertilizer. Whatever floats your boat." Pushing with his elbows, Link slid across the floor, through the gap between the Bounty Hunter's legs, sprang to his feet, then whirled around with a slice aimed for the head.

The Stalfos ducked, then thrust. "It's not that easy."

Somersaulting over the attack, Link spun in the air, landing deftly behind his opponent, and swinging around once more. "Have you even tried?"

Rojan met the strike instantly, their swords cracking together and locking once more. "Enough!"

Link gasped for breath, sweat slipping down his and brow and stinging his eyes. "One question…" he breathed, "that's been burning me… throughout your little story, one that… demands an answer before either one… or both of us meet the fate inscribed in the Tablet of Destiny," – lightning flashed – "a question… that's just nagging at my twisted corners of my curiosity."

"And, what," said Rojan, tiring of the whole conversation, "would that question be?"

Link licked his lips. "How exactly," he said, "do a pair of Stalfos have children? I ask merely out of idle inquisitiveness, you understand, considering that your species are a) somewhat dead and b) anatomically challenged."

The Bounty Hunter spun away with a disgusted snort. "It would appear that I will have to show you what other skills I have thanks to the PessiMystiko Order." His fingers danced, his lips muttering whispered incantations. "Skills in…magic." With a theatrical flourish, he unfurled his arm, pointing straight at Volvagia. "Awake!"

The Shadow Lord gaped in shock as he watched the skeletal remains of the dragon Volvagia twitch once, twice, a dull scarlet glow flickering to life in the dark pools of her eye sockets. Joints snapping, dust flying from her yellowed bones, Volvagia slowly uncoiled herself, stretching herself upright. Watching the Dragon tower over him, throwing back her head and – somehow- emitting a deathly shriek, Link could only utter one word to accurately capture the sheer, bloodcurdling horror of the sight before him at that very moment: "Bugger."

Black stars popped in Zelda's vision. She tried to gasp, but all she felt was a tight vice around her throat, as though she'd swallowed broken glass. It had started out well. She'd fought Franco back to the passageway outside the Chamber, then pushed him up the stairs, up to the balcony overlooking the cavernous room. And that's when the dragon had woken.

The Princess had watched, icy terror stabbing her heart, as Volvagia had stood on her hind legs, the ground shaking with each of her movements, watching with regal detachment, as though in profound meditation. A deep, ominous rumble had bubbled up from within the dragon's organless body, and everyone had frozen, watching in awe and fear. Then, as though imitating a snake set to strike, the dragon's neck snapped forward like the cracking of a liquid whip, almost taking Link's head off.

Zelda mouth had dropped open, ready to let fly with a scream, when Franco had pounced on her, his hands curling around her neck. Her body sagged beneath her, the world spinning in her eyes.

"Well, well, well, Princess," Franco taunted, his high-pitched voice grating on Zelda's ears. "So nice to see you again. Shame about the scar, though I must say, that's a rather fetching eye patch you have there."

Desperately trying to scratch at his hands, the Princess struggled to find a way to break free. Her head pounded, her hands tingling, almost going limp as consciousness threatened to leave her. She croaked as she tried to spit out a sharp retort.

"Now now, Princess," Franco cooed, grinning as drops of sweat flew from his face. "I think it'll be much better for you if you die quietly. Slowly, though, so that I can enjoy it you understand." He bared his teeth. "It's a shame…we could have been something special, you and I. But, no…you had to stand against me. Well, no matter. I'm sure there are plenty of beauties who would cut their hands just to be my queen."

Zelda felt darkness seep into the corners of her vision. Closing her eyes, she let her hands curl into fist. She was not going to lose to this filth. She was _not_.

Clenching down on her teeth, with a final burst of concentrated energy, she shot her arms up in between his, then snapped them out to the sides, breaking apart Franco's grip. Pausing to take a gasp of air, Zelda dodged just in time as the fop threw an inelegant punch. The Princess rolled on the ground, scooping up her sword, then sprang to her feet.

Franco, his own blade ready, lunged at her, growling. Their swords clanged against the other over and over again, each trying to find an opening as they spun smoothly through a series of intricate manoeuvres, almost as fast as Link's battle with the Bounty Hunter below.

A slip of pure light shot out from the shadows, careening straight into Franco's eyes. The fop screamed as Navi, her tiny face scrunched in anger, battered his features.

Zelda gripped her sword, eyes thinning as she saw her chance, then slashed – a horizontal strike across Franco's face – then slashed again – diagonal from top to bottom – and slashed one last time – another horizontal strike.

Franco staggered back, his blade dropping from his hand as his eyes widened. With his other hand he gingerly touched his face. The Princess watched as a liquid, crimson 'Z' slowly formed on the fop's face. She brought her weapon to bear, and stepped into an attack stance, ready to fight to the death, ready to take this fight straight to the –

Franco fainted.

Link screamed, rolling across the floor as Volvagia snatched at him with her talons, a cloak of black, acrid smoke trailing from her nostrils. The air burned, clouds of soot and ash billowing. Her wings flapped in leathery beats, and then she took to the air, gliding through the smoke.

The Shadow Lord glared at Rojan, the Bounty Hunter busily cackling to himself in one corner of the massive Chamber. "You madman!" Link spat. "You'll kill us all!"

"Probably," the Stalfos replied, "I'm sure I'll die horribly, my bones crushed to dust in the dragon's jaws, but only after you have suffered a similar fate first."

Fear clutching his heart, the Shadow Lord's eyes traced the dragon's path in the air. "Insane!" he cried. "Just insane! Dragons in enclosed spaces! Skeletal Dragons who can breathe fire! And why, if you had this power at your disposal all along," he paused to give the Stalfos a meaningful glance, "did you not just wake the dragon in the _first_ bleedin place!"

Grinning, Rojan's jaw opened then, after a moment's consideration and a frown, snapped shut again. "Oh."

Volvagia glided in at an angle, almost beautiful in her smooth descent, and swooped over their heads, her wings slicing through the table, shattering it to dust, her claws snatching at the chairs. Landing, her talons gouging deep scars into the marble floor, a fountain of sparks spilling in her wake, she then crossed her wings over her tiny, twig-like arms.

In that briefest of pauses, the Shadow Lord moved. Sweat exploding on his skin, the air shimmering from the heat, Link lunged at the dragon with his sword. Volvagia dodged, slipping aside with almost sheer contempt for his actions, then tried to swat him with one skeletal wing. The Shadow Lord threw himself into the air, spinning wildly over the attack. He landed with the slightest of slips, twirled, his sword a blur of whirling motion, then drove his weapon straight into the dragon's ribs.

Bone shattered, dust flew, and Volvagia roared, filling the chamber with an otherworldly howl. Link pounced, landing on her spine, then leapt again. He ran up the thin bony bridge of her neck with graceful ease, arms outstretched to keep balance, Volvagia desperately trying to shake him off and, when he reached her head, he leapt once more. For a fraction of a second he hung suspended in the air, the sudden wash of cold air making him gasp. Then Link began to plummet, his blade slowly swinging into position so that its sharpened tip faced straight down and –

With a disdainful flick of her neck, Volvagia batted the Shadow Lord out of the air. He landed on her spine – and began to slide down. Clutching at the bone, his teeth chattering as he slid, Link knew he'd stop as soon as he reached the dip in the dragon's back. He braced himself, ready to slow down, then-

He continued to slide, picking up speed as he dipped down Volvagia's spine, then curved straight up her tail. The Shadow Lord screamed as he saw thin air hurtle towards him. Desperately, he tried to dig his fingers in, trying to slow down his passage and –

Link flew straight off the tail, screaming all the way, his arms flapping as he soared through the air. The tapestry that decorated the chamber rushed up in his eyes, looming larger and larger. He threw his arms up, closed his eyes – and crashed straight into wall, face first. Head spinning, a salty tang flooding his mouth, the Shadow Lord slid to the ground, then fell flat on his back.

The Shadow Lord's eyes fluttered open. Volvagia peered down at him, her skeletal head expanding and contracting in his vision.

"Love," he slurred. "You have a really ugly tail."

Hissing, the dragon reared back her head, paused, then snapped down towards Link. The Shadow Lord sprung out of the way at the last moment and Volvagia's head smashed into the floor in a cloud of plaster and shattered marble. Her neck stretched and tugged as she tried to free her head – but it stayed firmly in place, buried and stuck fast.

Link stood, wiping his hands, watching the dragon strain against her self-made prison. "What a frightfully dim-witted creature."

With a yell, Rojan burst out of the shadows, sword swinging. The Shadow Lord was upon him in an instant, his veins filling with determination. He parried the first attack, spun, and snapped the Bounty Hunter's sword in two in a spray of sparks. In a flash, Link drove his elbow into Rojan's jaw, making him reel in shock. The Shadow Lord whirled – once, twice, thrice – then sliced his blade straight through the Stalfos' neck.

The headless Bounty Hunter dropped to its knees, then collapsed to the ground. Link, closing his eyes in relief, let out a deep breath. "Well," he said, "that's that."

"No, it's not."

The Shadow Lord's eyes snapped open. "What?"

"I said," the voice informed him, "that it's not over."

Link blinked. "And who," he said, "might you be?"

"Guess."

Link yelled as something bit into his feet. He glanced down, saw Rojan's disembodied head clinging to his toes, grinning all the while. "Get off me!" he cried, kicking the thing off. It bounced after him. "I do not _believe_ this."

"It would appear," said the Stalfos head, "that, though my imminent demise is assured, I am yet to gain one last, meaningful victory by taking your toes with me."

The Shadow Lord tried to stamp on the skull. It bounced out of the way. He stamped again. It rolled away. Link's shoulders slumped. "This," he said, "is my most embarrassing victory ever."

The doors to the chamber flung open and, with Navi flying behind her, Zelda burst into the room. She strode straight up to the Stalfos and, with one well-placed kick, sent the skull crashing straight through the window.

Link looked at Zelda. Zelda looked at Link. "Welcome home, Shadow Lord," she said.

"I think I need a stiff glass of Red Potion," he replied.

The Princess laughed. "Later. After we release Ruto and Saria."

"And for now?"

Zelda smiled. "This."

She fell into his arms, Navi squealing happily above their heads. Link gently took the Princess' face in his hands, looked into her eyes and, at long last with the sun warming their faces, husband and wife kissed.

And so, the Shadow Lord and Shadow Lady ruled over Castleton, living happily ever after.

Until, that is, Zelda found out that Link had pinched the Triforce of Wisdom when he'd been younger and hidden it in a somewhat unmentionable place. But, like all happy couples, they overcome that little obstacle, Zelda eventually forgiving Link for that little misdemeanour. There was also the incident involving a cucco, a tub of Red Potion and a herring, but the less said about that, the better.

Zelda and Link had another official wedding where the Princess bought the Hero a new Green Hat as a gift, something he was eternally grateful for. He, in turn, bought her a new ring, complete with an exquisitely beautiful diamond.

Ruto and Saria stayed on as advisors, along with Tingle and Navi. Unknown to any of them, the Shadow Lord's policies on slaves eventually led to the total abolishment of slavery, simply because the slaves had now taken their lives into their own hands, realised the great gift that that truly was, and were determined to make the most of it. Eventually the freedman became more affluent and influential than the nobles of the city, and a good deal more compassionate and productive, too. The Gorons, on the other hand, became nomads, travelling from place to place, building breathtakingly beautiful structures in every place they left their mark on, structures that would be admired long after their passing from Hyrule. Franco DeZorres was locked away in the Castleton dungeons. It was rumoured that he would, every night when midnight was at its blackest, hold conversations with a glowing skull, asking it 'To be free, or not to be free?'

Link, the Shadow Lord of Castleton, spent out the rest of his life with the same attitude that he greeted each and every new day: with a wink and a smile.

FIN 

**A/N**: Well, I said it would be a little different, didn't I?

So, was that a lighthearted (and ever-so-slightly insane) adventure romp or was it really an angry, bitter semi-satire?

Who cares?

Consider this my gift to those of you who found 'Rebel Assassin' a little too dark and depressing (still my favourite out of my three stories, though).

Quick shout-outs to my regular reviewers: Crazygurl Madness, Bariyou, Crimson Ashes, Lucibell (please read and review her stories – she doesn't get enough reviews for the amount of effort she puts in), Akinababy, Forlorn Rain, NekoYasha and Vladimir (who, apparently, is a hamster) – a big thank you to you all and to everyone else who reviewed!

Split Infinitive


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